Revival
by Stabson
Summary: It's restoration to life, consciousness, vigor. They both need it, whether they know it or not, and the only way they can get it is with each other.
1. Anew

A/N: Hello, faithful readers! So, I've had this idea rolling around in my head for **literally** years, and finally got the courage to post it. I have quite a bit written, and wanted to see if I'd gain a following before continuing. So I hope you enjoy!

* * *

By the time newly appointed Detective Olivia Benson reaches her final destination, her legs are both asleep, eyes blurry and she's just about had enough of radio programs. As soon as she steps out of the car, though, none of that matters, because she's finally arrived at her new home in Newport Beach, California. The air is warm, the sun is shining, and life couldn't be better after days cramped in the same position in her car.

The home that belongs to the driveway she pulls into is a single bedroom house with a small garden out front. The grass is short, green, and it looks like it's been taken care of, just like most of the well-manicured lawns she's seen in the surrounding neighborhood. _This place is beautiful. _

_ A perfect place to start fresh. _

Olivia opens the door, and walks inside, removing her sunglasses as she goes. It's small, but then again, it's only her, so it's perfect. The front door opens to a decent sized living room and kitchen with granite countertops. To her right, a hallway leads to a bedroom, study and cranking the air conditioning, she goes back out to the car to grab her boxes. This is the only part of the trip when she wishes she has a companion; unpacking is a bitch when you're the only one doing it. She didn't mind driving by herself, in fact, she enjoyed the solitude. It gave her time to think.

A few hours later, she finally sets the last back on the floor in the living room, and sighs. _Finally. Now all's I have to do is unpack. _

Half of the contents of one of the boxes is spread across the floor by the time she remembers that she never closed the back door of her car.

"Damn." Olivia says aloud, heading back outside. Just as she opens the front door, a gray pick-up truck rolls by and pulls into the driveway of the house next door. Curious, she stands in the doorway and waits to see what her new neighbor looks like.

A tall, fit man wearing a pair of fatigues gets out. The camouflage is colored in varying shades of tan, his sleeves are rolled crisply to his biceps, and there's a logo on his hat, but she can't quite make out which branch it represents. She immediately notes the exhaustion he displays; it definitely looks like he had a long day doing whatever job was required of him. Frowning, Olivia closes the door of her car and heads back inside. It doesn't seem like he's up to meet a new face, just from what she observed, so she won't bother him.

However, she certainly wants to at least meet the man. Not only is he her next door neighbor, but he also performs one of the most selfless jobs in the world. She tries to tell herself those are the only reasons she wants to meet him, but that's not true. She wants to size him up, to see exactly what he's like, if he can be trusted. It's impossible to know that right away, but she's a great judge of character. Simply talking for a few minutes will be enough for now. He's a soldier, he protects their country, and there's a great chance he's just a good man doing his job, but her view on the world has been tainted. Even the ones that are supposed to be good can turn out bad.

The rest of the day is quiet. By the time seven o'clock rolls around, Olivia has succeeded in unpacking her bathroom supplies, most of the kitchen, her bedding, and parts of the living room, including a small box filled with part of her book collection. It's still quite warm out, so she takes one of her books outside and enjoys the early twilight hours while they last.

The previous owners left many pieces of furniture in the small house, including a table and chairs on the back patio, which Olivia is grateful for. She didn't have much coming from New York, and she really didn't want to have to refurnish an entire apartment. Taking a seat on the cushioned chair, she glances at the house next door. There is virtually no movement inside; most of the lights are even off.

_Hm. He must live alone, _she thinks to herself. _Must be pretty exhausted if he's already sleeping. _

She's not starting work for several more days, so she doesn't bother watching the time as the sun sets and darkness envelopes the yard. By the time she climbs into bed, it's past midnight.

_ Olivia's head was pounding. Warm blood seeped from a wound on her forehead. She tried to sit up, but her hands were tied to the headboard above her. _

_ "Well, well. Look who's finally awake." _

_ Her blood turned to ice. She would never forget that voice: cold, calculating, evil. A man stepped forward from the shadows, and she instantly recognized him as the suspect she'd been trying so desperately to find, William Lewis. A sadistic grin was plastered on his face. _

_ Olivia immediately screamed for help. She struggled with her bound hands, squirmed and kicked, but to no avail. Lewis climbed on top of her, and slapped her so hard she saw stars._

_ "Shut up!" He yelled, balling her rumpled police uniform shirt in his fist. "No one's coming to rescue you, Officer Benson. We have plenty of time to play." _

Olivia shoots up from her mattress, breathing heavily, her shirt drenched in sweat. In a matter of seconds, she has her pistol in both hands, scanning the room for potential threats.

_There's no one here. You're fine, you're in your new house. He's not going to hurt you. _

She sets her gun down, taking a shaking breath. _Everything's okay. _The glowing digits on the clock next to her bed read 4:15 A.M. No matter how hard she tries, she knows she's not going to get any more sleep, so she gets out of bed, and walks into the kitchen. It's still dark out, but through her window she sees the lights on next door.

_Well, that explains the early bed time, _she thinks. At that moment, she'd focus on anything to simply wash away the memory of her nightmare. After getting a glass of water from the fridge, she stands in the window and surveys the darkness surrounding her new neighborhood. It's quiet; almost too quiet, especially for a city girl that had never really spent any time away from the bustling streets of Manhattan.

The soldier next door steps out into the early morning darkness, illuminated by nothing more than the streetlamp in front of his house. He wears a pair of fatigues identical to the ones he'd come home in the previous night. Olivia watches as he locks the door behind him, stretches, and gets into his truck. After a moment, the headlights turn on, the truck rolls down the driveway, and he drives by her window, disappearing around the corner.

—-

The next few days go by much like that. Olivia's new neighbor leaves early, comes back mid evening, and if she didn't know better, she'd say he didn't even notice the new face next door. The need to have a face to face with him is growing; she's beginning to grow antsy. She doesn't even know this man, he could be anyone, any_thing, _but she wants to meet him. It scares her. Aloofness had caused her… what had happened to her, and she is definitely not going to allow it to happen again.

So Olivia spends the days unpacking, painting, and exploring the area surrounding her new home. She finds a kickboxing studio only a ten or fifteen minute drive away, and immediately signs up for classes.

She does that on her third day in Newport Beach. When she returns home, her neighbor's truck is in the driveway and the blinds and front door are open. _Hm. He's home early. _

The back door is open as well. He stands, wearing a green t-shirt and camouflage pants tucked into boots, arms crossed as he watches a large German Shepherd bound across the backyard.

Inside, she fills a watering can to bring to her newly purchased plants out back, and steps out the screen door. The flowers need watering, and she's finally going to talk to her neighbor. The soldier notices her as she took a glance, and waves at her in greeting. "Afternoon! How's it going?"

"Good," she answers, setting down her watering can after finishing with the last plant. He approaches her, and her breathing catches in her chest. While Olivia had caught glimpses of him from afar over the past few days, she'd never gotten to see him up close, and she has to say, afar doesn't do him justice. She can't help but admire his appearance. His eyes are the most amazing shade of blue, his jaw chiseled and he looks to be in top physical condition. The very bottom of a tattoo peaks out from his well-fitted sleeve.

"Welcome to the neighborhood," he says, reaching out to shake her hand. "I'm Elliot."

"Nice to meet you, Elliot," she says, looking him up and down. He stands several inches taller than her. His shoulders are broad, waist narrow. She wonders briefly if she can take him in a fight, and doubts it, unless she's willing to play dirty. "I'm Olivia. I saw you pull in the other day, but you didn't look like you were up for a meet and greet."

He looks confused for a moment before recognition flashes through his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Long day."

"You're a soldier?"

"Marine, actually," he smiles at her, and she nearly melts. He has an amazing smile… "And yourself?"

"I'm starting as a detective with Anaheim PD in a few days."

She hears a bark from his property and without any warning, the German shepherd barrels out from the side yard and runs straight for Elliot. The Marine bends as it jumped up to meet him.

"What are you doing over here, huh?" He asks, petting the shepherd with both hands. The dog barks happily in response, and licks his master's face.

Elliot chuckles, standing and turning back towards Olivia. "This is Brutus."

"Hi, Brutus," Olivia says, bending to pet him. Brutus licks her hand as she pulls it away, laughing.

Elliot laughs along with her. "I think he likes you."

Brutus licks Olivia's hand once more, then moves back towards Elliot. He jumps up onto Elliot's chest.

"Oomph," Elliot chuckles. "I better get this guy inside and give him some food. But, hey, uh… if you're not busy tomorrow night, would you like to come over for dinner? As a sort of welcome to the neighborhood… thing."

She smiles. "I'd like that."

He smiles back at her, and nods. "Good. Seven alright for you?"

"Perfect."

Elliot nods once more. He looks down at Brutus. _"Come."_

The dog follows him, right at his side, all the way into the house. She has to say that she's thoroughly impressed with his training.

—-

Elliot lets the screen door fall closed behind him, and takes an immediate right into the kitchen. The house is just as small as Olivia's, but an open floor plan keeps the space manageable. A bar with a sink and two barstools separates the living room from the kitchen on one side, and a countertop faces the area in front of the backdoor. He reaches into the cabinet above the refrigerator for a bag of dog food to fill Brutus's bowl.

"Good boy," Elliot says, petting Brutus on the head. With a sigh, he collapses onto the couch in the living room. His eyes fall closed for a moment as he toes off his boots. Thanks to standing for most of the day, his feet ache, but it's a pain that he's used to. It's easy to push aside. His focus now is on what he sees in the dark; behind his eyelids, wisps of his new neighbor form. She's beautiful… her chocolate eyes, auburn hair, intoxicating smile.

The rumbling of his stomach draws him out of his trance. He gets up slowly, and flips on the television as he walks back into the kitchen. It flickers on to a commercial for Volkswagen. As he digs through the contents of his cabinets and refrigerator, the need to go shopping becomes more and more apparent; he has have to do it before returning from work tomorrow, which means walking around in public in his fatigues. Usually, he doesn't mind it, through the awkwardness of strangers approaching him. He understands why they do, of course, but in all his years as a Marine, he never seemed to get used to it. If he was honest, he would continue his work if no one at all thanked him.

_ "Get ready for low visibility in the A.M. Low clouds and morning fog will last through the end of the week. Tomorrow, we're looking at partly cloudy skies with a high of seventy-four degrees."_

The overly bubbly weather woman goes on as he throws some Italian sausages in a pan on the stove, then begins chopping onions and peppers. He remembers the very first time a stranger approached him. At only nineteen years old, he'd been straight out of bootcamp, and the older gentleman had walked straight up to him, stuck out his hand, and said a teary-eyed "thank you". He told Elliot that his son died flying helicopters in the Air Force. Even after the story, the younger version of himself still felt invincible, impenetrable. His heart ached for the man's son. But Elliot wasn't him.

_"…will dip down to seventy degrees. We're looking at a beautiful weekend, with temperatures beginning to rise back up on Thursday, and remaining in the low eighties through Sunday, with clear skies." _

Now, though he loves what he does probably even more than he did back then, he's painfully aware of his own mortality. He's lucky. The friends he lost over the years could have easily been himself.

He's glad that Olivia only mentioned his job in passing.

_Olivia. What a beautiful name. _

He wipes his hands on a hand towel, and sighs, staring out the back window as his improvised dinner cooks. Usually during the week, he comes home too tired to actually put effort in his cooking, so quick meals like sausage and peppers are a regular for him. He always tries to eat the healthiest he can, and it comes as a chore. He's sure that heating microwave meals or stopping at the nearest fast food joint would be both faster and more convenient. His waistline, though, surely wouldn't agree.

He stirs his dinner with a pair of tongs, stomach growling. When he's satisfied, he prepares a plate, then pours himself a cold glass of water.

More commercials blare on as he sits at the breakfast bar. He has a dining room, but eating there only succeeds in making him lonely. So instead, he sits at the bar and watches TV as he eats.

Halfway though his meal, a wet tongue makes contact with his pant leg. Brutus sits at his side, looking up at Elliot with his brown eyes, tongue sticking out of his mouth.

"You know better," Elliot says. Brutus whines.

_Elliot held his M16 in his hands. His battle buddy, Danny, stood next to him, the loop of a leather leash wrapped around his wrist. A large German Shepherd trotted back and forth, sniffing the ground in front of them._

_ The dog's head perked up suddenly, and he whined. _

_ "What is it, Brutus?" Danny asked. _

_ The next thing he knew, his ears were ringing and he was gasping for air. The taste of metal stings in his mouth. _

_ "Danny." The voice wasn't even his. It was a whisper, filled with confusion and pain and anger. Elliot tried to sit up, to get moving, but the pain was too great and he was too weak._

_ The last thing he felt was a warm, wet tongue on his cheek._

Elliot's fork clatters against the bar top. A bead of sweat runs down his brow. He sighs shakily, and picks up a piece of sausage from his plate, handing it out for Brutus to take.

"Just this once." It's a mantra that repeats too often in this kitchen.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! **Please let me know what you think, so I know if there's interest if I continue. Like I said, I posted to see if there would be a solid following for this. **As is my new tradition, if you leave a review, you will get a sneak peak of the next chapter.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	2. Union

A/N: You guys are awesome! Thanks so much for the great feedback! I'm glad you like the new direction I'm going in, I always like to switch it up! Just to let you know as an age thing, it takes place around 2008, but they're both, like, 30. I wanted to make them younger so it's more plausible to have Elliot in the Marines and Olivia just starting out as a detective.

I'd also like to give shoutouts to all my continued reviewers. You guys are rockstars: TheCongressman, PaperFrames, FayeVDM, Cinderella1268, Sam 'Dimples' Swarek, rakiyakamilasantonye, and lexi121 (and anyone else if I've missed someone). To everyone else, thanks so much for reading, and I hope to read your thoughts on this chapter! :)

* * *

The next day, Elliot walks into his home carrying several bags of groceries. He pulls his cap off of his head, drops it onto the table, and opens all of the blinds and windows before he starts unpacking. The weather report the previous night had been spot on; it's beautiful out today. Once he's finished putting everything away, he throws together a quick steak marinade, puts the meat in, and leaves it on the counter to go take a shower.

He returns twenty minutes later, freshly showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a white button up shirt, the top few buttons remaining comfortably unbuttoned.

He's prepared a medley of zucchini, onions and peppers before there's a knock. The door is open so the screen door is the only barrier to the outside world.

Elliot turns, and smiles when he sees Olivia standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of jeans and a beautiful, flowing tank top.

"Hey!" he greets, dropping his knife in the sink. "Come on in, I'm heading out back now."

She steps over the threshold, pets Brutus, and follows Elliot outside into the backyard.

—-

"Wow," Olivia says, looking around the yard. During her short time living next door, she's never taken time to really look out here. Right behind the house, she steps onto a brick patio with a table and chairs, an outdoor bar, grill and a fire pit out back. "It's beautiful back here."

"Thanks." Elliot says, smiling. "I did the patio myself, what was it? Maybe seven or eight months ago."

"You did a good job," Olivia approaches him. "Can I help with something?"

"No, no." Elliot says. "Sit. Let me get you something to drink."

He walks around the back of the bar, takes a jug of brown liquid out of the mini-fridge, and pours two glasses. He hands her one, and sips on the other himself. "My mother gave me this recipe. It's peach iced tea."

She takes a sip. "It's really good. Thanks."

"Good," Elliot smiles, taking another sip. He turns back to the steaks. "So, Olivia. Where are you from?"

"New York." Olivia says.

"Are you kidding me?" Elliot looks up at her. "I'm from New York. Bayside. I had to move out here after I was stationed."

"Really? Small world. I grew up in Manhattan."

She smiles. She'd figured that he wasn't a native Californian, but the fact that he's from New York somehow makes this better. They are neighbors; she's from Manhattan, he's from Queens.

"So, what brings you out here to Newport Beach?"

"Uhm." She hesitates, taking a drink from her glass. "Well, I got a job out here. I wasn't going to refuse."

Elliot nods. "So, you're a police officer, right?"

"Detective. What exactly do you do in the Marines?"

"I'm a Recon Marine." When all's he gets is a confused look, he chuckles. "Recon Marines are the first to land and assess the battlefield. We pretty much just find out what to expect and report back so the rest of the infantry can be prepared to deal with the enemy. I'm an MOS 0326, which means I'm a Reconnaissance Man, Parachute and Combatant Diver qualified."

"Sounds dangerous."

Elliot shrugs, taking the steaks off of the grill with a smile on his face. "It can be."

He sets the platter of steaks down on the table, which has already been set, and gathers the vegetable mixture he grilled as well. "Bon appétit."

"This looks great." Olivia says, picking a piece of meat and placing it on her plate.

"Hopefully it tastes as good." Elliot takes a large helping of steak and vegetables, and cuts into his meat, glancing up at Olivia as she pops a piece into her mouth.

She nods in approval. "Delicious."

He smiles, almost relieved. "Good."

"So, how long have you been in the military?" She asks.

"Fifteen years." He answers almost immediately, a smile coming across his face.

"Sounds like you really enjoy it."

—-

Elliot does. The military had saved him from a life that was going nowhere; his parents had no way of supporting him through college, not that his father would have been generous anyway, and the only thing he had going for him was a job at his uncle's bar. Finally, after an especially terrible argument with his dad and breaking up with his high school sweetheart, he realized what little he'd be leaving behind. There was nothing worth staying for, so he went to recruiter's office, put down his name, and shipped off to MCRD, Parris Island.

"I joined up after high school graduation." He says finally. "After my first enlistment, I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, so… I reenlisted."

"So you still don't know what you want to be when you grow up, huh?" Olivia jokes, giving him a smile.

Elliot shrugs, giving smirk of his own. "Why give up a good thing? I'm living the life; I get to experience wonderful vacation destinations such as Iraq, Kuwait, Afghanistan…"

"Oh, highly sought ofter, huh?"

"Great service, friendly people. What more can you ask for?"

Olivia chuckles, looking down at her plate. "I think I'll stick with some more conventional locations."

Elliot grins, taking another bite of steak. "Eh, that's boring."

"Boring, but safe."

"Says the cop."

"You got me there."

—-

Elliot gives her a wink, and lowers his gaze to cut his piece of meat. Olivia's heart flutters; she isn't sure what it was about this man, but he has a strange effect on her. She feels like she's known him for years, and for the first time in too long, she feels somewhat safe around a man.

When they're finished, Elliot picks up both of their plates, put them in the sink, then rejoined her outside. The sun's starting to go down, but it's still quite warm out.

"It's so quiet out here." Elliot murmurs. "So different from the city."

Olivia nods, staring out into the backyard. The noises of the wildlife she's hearing are completely foreign to her. She's used to hearing car horns, gunshots and large crowds. "Yeah, definitely different."

"How do you like it so far?"

Her gaze turns towards him. He leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, hands resting in his lap. The man looks comfortable, relaxed. It makes her comfortable and relaxed. "I like it. Thank you for inviting me tonight."

He smiles at her. "I couldn't resist entertaining a beautiful woman."

"Really, now?" She has to admit, she's surprised by his forwardness.

She's rewarded with a shrug. "We are neighbors, aren't we? I'd like to get to know you. If that's alright, that is."

She shrugs, sipping back the rest of her drink. "Hm. I'll think about it." She teases.

Elliot nods. "I'll take that."

She leaves soon after. Elliot stands in the kitchen, washing the dishes, a smile on his face. He's only spent a few hours with her, but he already knew that he wanted to spend a lot more.

He scares the hell out of her.

Olivia locks the door when she gets into the house. All the lights are off; she hadn't expected to stay for so long after the sun went down. She has always kept people at arm's length, especially men. Even more so since she's left Manhattan. They've only had two conversations with each other, but she already knows that he's different. It infuriates her; she's had no problems keeping her walls up, but this new neighbor of hers almost makes her feel bad for doing it.

She feels more confused than she should be.

—

Elliot mows Olivia's lawn on Saturday. When she wakes up, he's already out there, wearing a pair of charcoal gray cargo shorts and a loose light blue t-shirt. He starts at the very edge of his lawn, and instead of stopping at the property line, he goes straight through to her driveway and back. Olivia's never mowed a lawn in her entire life, so she's grateful, but at the same time, she's never relied on anyone for anything, even something as simple as gardening.

She dresses, and makes her way outside. It takes him a few minutes to notice her there, and when he does, he smiles, continuing his work. "G'morning!"

"Morning." She answers, taking the opportunity to approach him. When she does, he stops the push mower, and turns it off.

"What's up?"

"You're mowing my lawn."

Elliot nods. "Yeah, I know."

"How come?"

He shrugs loosely. "The grass looks better when the mow lines are going in the same direction. You want to keep the neighborhood looking good, don't you?"

—-

Elliot doesn't give a shit about mow lines. In reality, he simply wants to gets to know her more, and he's too much of a chicken to walk up to her door and ask. So he starts to mow her lawn, and feels good about helping her out, too. He knows she's from Manhattan, so she's likely never touched a lawn mower in her entire life.

"I don't know, should I?" Her arms are crossed over her chest, and one eyebrow is cocked. She looks beautiful in her white shorts and orange shirt.

He shrugs, smiling. "Even if you don't, you're not gonna have to mow the lawn now, so either way it's a win for you."

With that, he turns the mower on, and continues his work.

—-

By the time he finishes, it's midmorning and the sun is blazing. It's at least eighty degrees out. Olivia approaches him, and hands him a cold glass of water, which he accepts gratefully.

"Thanks." He raises the glass in a toast for a moment, then sucks half of it down. The cold liquid feels good on his dry throat.

She shrugs. "I figure I owe you something after doing my yard work for me."

"You could always come out with me." Elliot suggests plainly. "I'm planning on going down to the pier. There are a bunch of shops down there, and a couple of restaurants. What do you say, I can show you around."

She's hesitant, and he notices it.

"You know, from one neighbor to another." He adds.

She knows damn right well it's more than that.

"Don't you have a girlfriend to bother?" She asks, trying to be playful. She thinks it comes off hurtful, and regrets it almost immediately.

He's not hurt, though. In fact, he laughs. "I work from five in the morning to five at night, usually longer. When do you think I have the time to find a girlfriend? Besides, there's this beautiful neighbor I have, and I'm trying damn well to get to know her better. She's not making it very easy, though."

"Maybe she's just not interested." She says.

His expression turns serious. He takes a step closer to her, and she can smell his cologne. It's damn near intoxicating.

Christ, who wears cologne to mow the lawn?

Someone who's trying to impress.

"I don't believe that for a second." He says. His eyes turn playful again. "Come out with me, Olivia. It'll be fun. Besides, what else are you gonna do, sit in that house all day? It's gorgeous out."

Olivia can't bring herself to say no. "Alright, alright. You convinced me. I'll come."

He nods, a grin of victory coming across his face. "Good. Grab whatever you need and I'll meet you out front."

Olivia sighs as she walks back into her kitchen.

What have I gotten myself into?

* * *

A/N: She said yes! A second date of sorts is coming, what will our favorite pairing learn about each other this time? Will Olivia open up, or shy away like she's been doing? Please leave a review and let me know what you like/didn't like/want to see more of! Also, if you want more cool sneak peaks, to talk to me directly, or just see awesome posts, follow me on Twitter Stabson10.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	3. Progress

A/N: Hey, everyone! I'm in an awesome mood, tonight is my last night of work so I'll have a lot more time to write and do everything else I need to do. Any way, thanks to every one that read and reviewed last chapter, and a special thanks to one of my Twitter betas, kukrae. Thanks to all of your help :) Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

The passenger seat of Elliot's truck is comfortable. There's plenty of leg room, the air conditioning gently blows over her, and the seats aren't leather, so her legs don't stick painfully to their surface. Elliot sits next to her, leaning back in his seat comfortably as he drives with one hand resting on the top of the steering wheel. He has an iPod plugged into the radio; a playlist of Rolling Stones classics plays softly in the background.

The truck pulls to a stop in a parking lot close to the beach. Olivia gets out, and takes a deep breath of fresh air. It's still hot out, in the low eighties, but the ocean breeze keeps the temperature manageable. It's a beautiful day.

"So, Olivia," he begins, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walk, "were you a detective in Manhattan, too?"

Her heart pangs, and she frowns. She used to love Manhattan. Now, all it succeeds in is bringing back painful memories. Every time she thinks of the city, the streets, the crowded sidewalks, her old precinct, the images warp and degrade into that dark room. The bang and bustle of the crowd turns into the groaning of the bed under her, car horns into fists meeting defenseless skin, and the howling wind into a zipper opening.

"You still with me?" his voice makes her jump. They're still walking, but his eyes are on her. He looks confused.

"Yeah," she answers. "I was a patrol officer in Manhattan, not a detective yet. They offered me a promotion in Anaheim."

Elliot nods, kicking a small rock from the sidewalk with his worn sneaker. The confusion is still on his face, but he does well in hiding it. She's glad he doesn't bring up her sudden silence. "Well, congratulations. Must be exciting for you."

"It is. I'm excited to get started," he's silent for a moment, so she figures it's her turn to ask a question. "What's your rank?"

"Gunnery Sergeant," he says. She notices that every time he talks about his career, he smiles. It's great to see someone so passionate about what they do. "I'll be eligible for promotion at the end of this enlistment."

"You're a career Marine, then, huh?" She doesn't know much about the military, but that's something. She remembers them talking about this during dinner, but she's looking for a concrete answer this time.

He shrugs. "It's what I love to do. I can't imagine doing anything else. So, yeah."

They're silent for a long moment as they approach the pier. It stretches out into the ocean, there are plenty of people walking up and down, and there's a large restaurant at the very end.

"Wow," Olivia says as they reach it. "It's nice."

A smile spreads across Elliot's face. "Yeah, it is."

They both gravitate towards the pier.

"I wish I knew about this place when I first moved here," he says as they walk. "I was so busy with my new detail, I never got the chance to get out and explore. You're lucky you have a few days before you start work."

"I'd rather start work," she says, staring out at the ocean. Elliot watches her for a long moment, perplexed.

"How come?"

She shrugs. "I want to get started making a difference. You're a Marine, you should know the feeling."

Elliot nods, satisfied by the answer, for now. He can see something else in her eyes, something darker, but he lets it go. They just met, he doesn't want to scare her off already. "Yeah, I guess I do."

They both stop for a moment, and take the opportunity to look out at the scene in front of them. Elliot watches her for a moment, the corner of his mouth turning upwards… she really is beautiful. His gaze turns forward before she can catch him looking. The waves are calm today; it's a perfect day on the ocean. Elliot's immediately reminded of broaching zodiac boats in Recon School as he stares out at the surf. He and the rest of his class had to paddle two hundred yards out, flip their boats over to drain the ocean water, flip them back, then paddle back to shore. The ocean's perfect for that today, with no heavy waves or strong winds. He's glad he never has to go through that training again; it was the hardest twelve weeks he's ever had to endure.

It had all been worth it though, he thinks. He'll be doing this job for a long time. He loves it.

Without a word, they move father down the pier. It's past noon now, and he's starting to get hungry. "You like seafood?" he asks.

She shrugs. "I don't mind it."

"Good," he says. "The place at the end of the pier is great. I don't know about you, but I'm starvin'."

He thinks she might refuse. She hesitates for a long moment, but finally nods. "Sure, I could go for a bite."

They find one of the only tables outside. Luckily, they get a table at the edge of the pier, and the sounds of the ocean overcomes much of the chatter of the restaurant. Their waitress is a young blonde, wearing a t-shirt and pair of shorts, with her impossibly straight hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He only glances at the menu, he's been here a hundred times, and knows exactly what he wants.

"How're you folks doing?" the young waitress asks a few minutes later. "Ready to order?"

—-

_Why is this man still single? _

The question's been burning in her mind since they stepped onto the pier. She understands some women might be turned off by the dangers of his job, but other than that, she can't see a single thing wrong with this man. He's kind, strong, outgoing, generous… how is he not settled down with a wife and kids by now?

They're walking along the beach now, occasionally sharing a few words, but mostly silent. After their lunch, she tried to pay cash for her portion of the bill, but he'd looked at her like he thought she was from outer space. _You don't think I'd let you pay for something I suggested, do you?_ She tried to sneak her money in several times, but he wasn't having it. Finally, she begrudgingly put away her wallet and thanked him profusely. He waved it off like it was nothing.

And then there's his looks. She's not a shallow person, it's definitely not the only thing that matters, it's not even on the top five list, but she's not blind, either. From what she can see, he's the perfect blend of lean and muscled; not ripped like a bodybuilder, but not too skinny, either. His muscles bulge slightly under the thin shirt he wears. She still hasn't fully seen the tattoo on his left arm, only the bottom, and she's curious.

"Can I see your tattoo?" she asks finally before she can stop herself.

He looks at her, and a grin spreads across his face. "Sure." His bicep flexes as he pushes up his sleeve. They stop walking for a moment so she can really look. The first thing she sees is a representation of a cross, but there's much more than that in the ink that dances across his skin. The Eagle, Globe and Anchor is weaved into the middle of the cross, with the words _Semper Fideles _written in flowing letters on a banner that wraps around the near top of the cross, directly above the eagle's head. The eagle's wings spread, following the lines of the cross bar of the cross, which finally meets the top of the anchor on the right side. Finally, in what looks like a slightly newer addition, _"Swift. Silent. Deadly." _is written in three banners that wrap around the lower part of the cross. She has to admit, it's one of the more creative tattoos she's seen.

"You're Christian?" she asks.

Elliot drops the sleeve of his shirt, and they resume walking without a word. He shrugs as his hands find their way into his pockets. "Yeah. Was a devout Catholic when I was younger, my parents sent me to Catholic school and everything."

"And now?"

A smirk plays across his lips. "If I tell you this, you gotta tell me something about yourself."

"Huh?"

"I told you, I want to get to know you better. If I tell you about this, you gotta tell me something else about yourself, and it can't be something dumb, like your favorite color or some shit."

She sighs, rolling her eyes, but she can't be annoyed with him. "Fine, I'll do it. Now, answer the question."

He takes a deep breath, turning serious. "Well, I got this cross when I turned eighteen, before the military. After my first enlistment, just… I'd been so many places, met different people with different beliefs, different ways of practicing them. It wasn't just about going to church every Sunday, going to confession, like I grew up with. These people believed, I mean, really believed, and they had their own ways of showing it. Know what I mean?"

Olivia nods. "Yeah."

"I'm still Catholic, I go to services when I get the chance, but," A smile slides across his face. "I just have a better understanding of my faith. I know now that there are plenty of ways to express my love for God without to service every Sunday and saying twenty Hail Mary's. If that makes sense."

"It does." She assures softly.

They walk in silence for a moment as Olivia lets the information sink in. She's not going to lie, she thought of Marines as many people do: jar heads. Loud, abrasive, not very bright. She respects the hell out of them, of course, but the stereotypes are hard to overcome. Elliot's the exact opposite of those stereotypes. He's intelligent, insightful, and kind, from what she can tell. From someone like him, she expects a bloody tale of action and violence from his time overseas. Instead, she receives story about how he's been changed spiritually by the places he's been. She hates to admit it, but it makes her want to know more.

"Your turn." Elliot says, breaking the silence.

"Hm? Oh, right." She sighs, staring out at the sand in front of them as se wracks her brain trying to figure out something to say. There's the darkness, but there's no way in hell she's telling him about that. She feels bad because he's shared personal information about himself, but she can't think of anything she's willing to tell him. Finally, she takes a deep breath. "I'm not really outwardly religious."

"What do you mean?" He asks.

Olivia shrugs. "I went to Siena, but after that, I never really got the whole structured Catholic thing. I see myself as a spiritual person, I believe in a higher power and all that, but… I like to keep that sort of thing in private. Plus, my mother never took me to church or anything so I really didn't grow up with it."

"What about your dad?"

"Uh, he wasn't around," she says, lowering her gaze.

—-

There's something she isn't saying. Elliot watches the way she lowers her gaze and unconsciously sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. There's definitely something that she doesn't want him to know, but he can't push it. It's only their second time out, neither of them are ready to start telling each other their life stories. So he simply nods, turning his gaze back forward.

"I understand," he says. "My father was a cop. We didn't really spend much time together."

"He must be a good man." She looks up at him, giving him a small smile. Oh, how wrong she is.

"He's dead," he answers blatantly. "I was overseas when he died."

"I'm sorry. That must have been hard for you, not being able to see him."

Elliot shrugs, taking a moment to look out at the ocean. "We never really got along. He was wound way too tight, it was like walking on eggshells in that house. Part of it was the job, the other part…" He swallows the lump in his throat as he thinks about his mother. "Let's just say it didn't take much for him to snap, and when he did, he didn't take it out in the healthiest of ways. That's part of the reason I joined the military in the first place, for the discipline. I knew I never wanted to be like him."

There's a long moment of silence, and he sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. "Sorry, I talk too much."

What the hell is wrong with him? He's never told anyone that story, _ever_. The memories were always best left untouched, buried in the back of his mind hoping to be forgotten. But with her… he feels comfortable around her. He feels like he can tell her anything and not be judged. Maybe it's because she's a detective and he knows she sees these things every day. Maybe it's because he just feels so damn comfortable around her.

"Don't apologize," she says finally. "I understand."

He doesn't realize how close they are to his truck until they're standing in front of it. He stops her, and looks her dead in the eye. "How do you understand?" When she doesn't answer, he does her best to give her another smirk. "I told you something else about me, after all. That means I get another fact, too."

She sighs shakily, and turns towards him, her back pressed against the hood of the truck. "My mom wasn't all that great to me, either."

With that, she turns, and gets into the passenger seat, leaving Elliot standing outside with a stunned look on his face. It takes him a moment to fully process what she's said, and once he does, a thousand questions form in his mind. _How wasn't she good to you? What happened? Why isn't your father around? Is it so bad that you can't tell anyone? Did she beat you? Abuse you? Starve you? _

The worst part is that he knows he can't ask any of those questions. He's just starting to really get to know this woman, and he's not going to ruin it.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Like usual, **review to get a sneak peak of the next chapter, which you definitely don't want to miss!** Great things are coming! :)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	4. Establish

A/N: I know, I'm a couple days late with this one. I've been so busy with university finals and work that I can barely write, let alone publish. Good news, though, I'll be done in a week! :) This chapter is a bit longer than the others, just think of it as a sorry for making you guys wait and a thanks for being such dedicated readers. To those wondering what happened to Liv, don't worry, you'll find out soon.

Special thanks going out to Moonstruck, Paperframes, LaceNLeather24 and The Congressman. You guys are awesome.

* * *

The first time Olivia walks into Anaheim's police department, she's nervous as hell. She's dressed for success, a pair of gray pants, comfortable boots and a short-sleeve light blue button-up, but that does nothing to make her feel more confident. It's her first day on the job, and she knows no one. She's only had a few short conversations with Sergeant Rob Conklin on the phone.

_What if they know about what happened in New York? What if they don't want me watching their backs or handling cases? What if they think I'm not up for the job? _

_If they didn't think you were up for the job, they wouldn't have hired you. You're going to do fine. _

The bullpen that she walks into is busy, but not nearly as busy as the ones she's seen in New York. It works out well, she thinks. After everything that's happened, she isn't sure she can deal with Manhattan's hustle and bustle.

"Can I help you?" A man walks up to her, dressed in his own button-up shirt and a pair of black slacks. He has medium-toned skin, brown eyes and black hair cut short and neat. There's a gun and a badge at his belt.

"I'm just looking for Sergeant Conklin." She says. "Do you know where I can find him?"

"You're the new detective?" He asks.

"Yeah, that's me."

The man approaches her, holding out his hand to shake. "I'm Raul Vasquez. I'm gonna be your partner."

"Olivia Benson." She greets, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too. The Sarge is right through that door." Raul points to the door at the back of the squad room.

Sergeant Conklin is an older man with graying hair. He wears a white dress shirt and his tie is loosened slightly as he works on paperwork.

"Welcome to Family Crimes, Detective Benson." He greets, smiling. "Have a seat, there are a few things I'd like to talk to you about before we get started here."

Olivia sits across from the sergeant, trying her best to keep her nerves in check. She's excited to get started, but she's also more nervous than she's ever been. She needs to show what a great detective she'll be.

"I've seen your record in New York, and I have to say, it's pretty impressive. I'm looking forward to seeing you work."

"Thank you, sir." Olivia says. "I'm excited to get started."

"That's good to hear. Family Crimes is one of the tougher details here in Anaheim, with the nature of our cases. I'm sure you're aware of that."

"Yes, I am, but I'm ready to handle it." She says firmly, determined, ready to prove herself and make a difference. She's not the same cop that she was before she left New York; she's stronger, better, and she's ready to show her new captain that.

Conklin looks her over for a moment, as if he's sizing her up. She knows he's analyzing her words, to see whether she really means them or not. Finally, he speaks. "I always like to get to know my detectives, it lets me know if they're going to last longer than a couple weeks in this unit. A lot of them have personal reasons for being here, and that's what makes them so passionate. So, Olivia, why are you here?"

She takes a deep breath. "I do have personal reasons for being here."

He's silent, waiting for her to speak. She doesn't know if she wants to. It's not something she talks about with anyone. Finally, she thinks, if these people really deal with crimes like this every day, sharing her experiences with her mother won't be that bad. If this man is going to be her sergeant, she needs to be as honest as she can with him.

"My mother," she begins, her voice soft, "was raped thirty years ago. I'm the result of that rape. She never really dealt with it, and when I was growing up… we didn't really get along."

She hopes he knows what she's trying to say. Apparently, he does, because he doesn't push the issue. Instead, he says, "Can you stay focused and objective on the cases at hand, with your past?"

"Yes." She answers immediately. It's going to be hard, but she's confident in her ability to put aside her personal experiences and do what she needs to do to get justice for the victims. "I know I can do this job."

He seems to be satisfied with her answers. "Well, Detective Benson, it sounds like you're ready to get started. I think you're poised to do some pretty good things in this unit. I'll introduce you to your partner."

Olivia follows him out into the bullpen, where the activity has yet to die down. Detectives bustle about, working on cases, taking statements, working diligently. She's done her job in learning the structure of the department, and she knows that it's quite different from what she left in Manhattan. In the Family Crimes Unit, there are seven detectives, commanded by one sergeant, Sergeant Conklin. It's definitely a smaller department, and she appreciates that.

"Detective Raul Vasquez, meet your new partner, Olivia Benson," Conklin says.

Raul stands, smiling. He has pearly whites, and she has to admit, he's quite handsome. She worked with Special Victims Unit detectives back in New York, a unit comparable to Family Crimes, and Raul doesn't have the same haunted look in his eyes that some of the SVU detectives have. If she has to work with someone, she's happy that it's him. "We already met, actually. I'm excited to start working with you, Olivia."

Conklin turns to Raul. "Show your new partner around."

—-

"So, where are you from? Cuz I know you're not a native Californian," Raul says as they sit in the car. The windows are rolled down, and a nice breeze blows through the vehicle.

"I'm from Manhattan," she says simply.

"Ah, a big city girl. What brings you out here?"

Olivia shrugs, turning to look out the window. Anaheim is an entirely different world from where she grew up; palm trees replace an abundance of tall buildings, the roads are nice and clean, and a median of freshly cut grass separates lanes of oncoming traffic. "I got a job out here. Wanted to get out of the big city."

Technically, it's not a lie. She did want to get out of the city, and she did get a job out here.

"What made you choose FCU?"

"What made _you_ choose FCU?" Olivia fires back.

Raul shrugs, choosing to ignore her defensiveness. "I have a little girl, she's two years old. I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt a child, especially if it's their own. I joined because I wanted to stop that from happening, for as many children as I can."

Olivia nods. Raul seems like a good person; she can tell she's going to enjoy working with him. It definitely takes away a lot of her nerves.

"So, are you gonna tell me why you decided on this unit?"

She shrugs. "I'd like to stop it from happening, too."

They stop in front of the hospital, and Raul turns off the car. "Well, it looks like we're going to get along, then."

Her first case absolutely sucks. The victim is an eight year old named Carlos Santiago and someone takes pleasure in beating the hell out of him on a daily basis. No matter how much she and Raul tried to coax a name out of him, Carlos remained tightlipped.

"Don't get bent out of shape over it," Raul says as they start to drive back to the precinct. "These kids usually have a hard time admitting what's happened to them, especially when someone close to them's done it. It takes a lot of work to get them to open up."

Olivia nods. She knows more about this than he thinks. "Yeah, I understand."

Her partner remains wordless as they drive back to the precinct. She's glad he doesn't try to fill the drive with words; he's real with her, and she appreciates it. _We're going to work well together, _she thinks.

—-

Elliot's truck doesn't pull into the driveway tonight. It's been a full week since Olivia started at Family Crimes, and nine days since that day on the pier. They've shared numerous short conversations since then, and he'd had her over for another dinner early in the week, where he grilled chicken kebobs. After that, though, she's been seeing less and less of him. He comes home later, and barely speaks with her. Olivia's afraid she's scared him off; she's been enjoying the slow dance they've shared. She doesn't want to give it up.

It's Friday night, she's off tomorrow, so after a quick dinner of leftovers, she sits outside with her book. Brutus, who had been laying outside on the patio, bounds up to the black chainlink fence that separates their properties and jumps up on it, tongue sticking out of his mouth. Smiling, Olivia approaches him.

"Hey, boy." She greets, petting his head. "Where's your master, huh?"

She doesn't know how, but it looks like Brutus has a knowing look in his eyes. His tail stops waging, and he plops back down on the grass. He doesn't look like he's going anywhere soon, so she turns to her book and continues reading.

It's dark out when Olivia decides to head inside. Brutus lays next to the fence, curled up, watching her. His head perks up when she gets up, and she almost feels bad for leaving him out here. He must be lonely over there all alone. As soon as she opens the door, he gets up, bolts back to Elliot's place, and slips inside through the doggy door. Shrugging, she heads inside.

The next morning, Elliot still hasn't returned. Olivia heads to an early morning kickboxing class, showers, waters her garden, and then heads back out to go grocery shopping. In the evening, a dark blue vehicle pulls into the driveway next door, and a man goes inside. He must be here to take care of the dog, Olivia thinks. Which means Elliot won't be home once again. She wonders silently what kind of work he's doing that he can't be home for several days. Training? Preparing for war? She recalls that she never even asked him if he still deploys.

The man leaves fifteen minutes later, and Olivia heads out back to spend another evening with her book.

—-

Around five o'clock in the evening the next day, the gray truck rolls by. Olivia looks up from her book, and watches as he pulls into the driveway. She watches as he gets out, wearing a pair of fatigues and looking more rumpled than she's ever seen him.

"Hey!" she greets, heading over to the truck. When he turns towards her, she sees bags under bloodshot eyes, dirt on his face, and more stress lines than she remembers.

—

Elliot's been awake for so long he's starting to see double. He's lost track of how long it's been since he's slept, and just standing in front of his neighbor, his muscles are screaming. After twelve years in the Marines, eight in Recon, it's a feeling he's used to, but not one that he can stand any better than on day one.

"Hey," he greets, his voice raspy. He leans against the truck to stay standing.

"You look exhausted," she comments, her arms crossing over her chest.

He shrugs, and instantly regrets it. His shoulders burn. "My unit conducted a forty-eight hour patrol. I haven't slept since… Thursday."

"No wonder you look like Death."

"I'm gonna go inside and sleep the sleep of the dead," he rumbles. "But hey, want to come over for dinner tomorrow? I've got these real nice steaks in the freezer, I've been waiting for a good time to cook them."

"That sounds great," she says. "But you've already cooked me dinner twice. How about you come over my place, and I'll cook for you?"

He smiles despite the exhaustion. Maybe he's just tired, but it seems easier to convince her to do things with him. He knew he'd be able to get through to her at some point. "Alright, I guess I can live with that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go pass out."

He gives her a smile, a pat on the shoulder, and heads inside. As soon as he closes the door, Brutus runs up to him, and jumps on his chest, panting excitedly. The marine groans, and stumbles backwards. "Out, out."

Brutus drops off of him as quickly as he jumped on, sorrow in his eyes.

"Sorry, buddy. I can barely stand on my own," he says, his back screaming as he leans down to give the dog a pet.

His pair of grungy fatigues go into the laundry, he takes a quick shower, and collapses into bed. He feels the mattress dip as Brutus joins him, curling up into his side and giving him a quick lick. Usually, Elliot's more strict with the rules, but he's too tired to discipline. Instead, he rests one hand on Brutus's silky coat, and passes out.

Elliot's wearing a pair of black shorts and a black and gray Marine Corps polo shirt when he knocks on Olivia's door. Thanks to a long sleep and a not so busy day on base, he's feeling much better than the last time she saw him.

"You're looking better," Olivia greets when she opens the door. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he says, stepping inside and taking a look around. The house looks almost identical to his, but with a more feminine quality. There are a few frilly pillows on the couch, and flowers sit on the breakfast bar. He immediately notices the striking lack of family photos around the place. _My mom wasn't all that great to me, either. _He wants more than anything to ask what she means, but he bites his tongue. If she wants him to know, she'll tell him.

"Can I help?" he asks, watching as she stirs something in a pot on the stove.

"Sure, you can help yourself to the drinks in the fridge," she answers, glancing at him with an impish look on her face.

Elliot eyes her, trying not to break out in a smile. "I guess I should expect that." He never let her help after inviting her over, after all. He should have foreseen her unwillingness to let him work.

He opens the fridge door, grabs a bottle of water, and leans against the counter, watching her. "How was your first week of work? What you thought it would be?"

"Sort of," she answers, turning towards him. She looks beautiful tonight, like always, in a pair of gray slacks and a short-sleeved blouse. He immediately feels underdressed in his shorts and shirt. As if reading his mind, she says, "I'm still in my work clothes. Don't feel underdressed."

A smile comes across his face. "Who said I feel underdressed?"

She shrugs, going into the fridge for her own bottle of water. "I _am_ a detective, remember? I can read people."

"I'll have to keep that in mind."

They share a laugh, and Olivia turns the burner off. "I hope you like Mexican. I found a recipe for this chicken and I had to try it."

"I'm not picky." He assures. "I'm sure it'll be great."

"We'll see."

—-

Olivia watches nervously as Elliot cuts a piece of chicken, and pops it into his mouth. She's never really been much of a cook, but after he cooked her such great meals and even took her out for lunch, she wants to do something to repay him.

"Mm," he says, nodding as he swallows. "This is great."

She smiles, taking a bite herself. "Good."

The meal is good and their conversation comes easily. Elliot tells her about his week; he's been swamped at work with training, and everything came to head with the forty-eight hour patrol. She shrugs it off, saying that she's been busy herself. She doesn't want to say that she's missed his presence over the past few days. They've only known each other for a week, after all, and they're only neighbors. What could she possibly miss?

It's harder than she hopes to convince herself that. She enjoys being with him. She wants to spend more time with him.

"That was fantastic," Elliot says, stretching as he leans back in chair. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," she answers. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

He takes her plate, places it on his, and brings them over to the sink for her. She watches, shocked for a moment, as he takes it upon himself to start washing them. "You know, part of the reason I invited you over was so you _didn't_ have to do that."

He shrugs, glancing at her. "You cooked. I wash the dishes. It's only fair."

"You didn't let me wash the dishes when _you_ cooked."

He's silent for a moment as he places the first place on the drying rack. Finally, he says, "Well, I guess I'm just a nice guy. I can't sit and watch you do all the work."

She shakes her head. She's been on plenty of dates, she's cooked dinner for previous boyfriends, but none of them had ever taken it upon themselves to help with the cleanup, even after dating for a few months. She's slightly amazed by this man. _Wait, this isn't a date… is it? _

_You know you want it to be. You know he wants it to be. _

_I can't do this. I'm not ready to date, I can't ruin what I already have with him._

"There, all done," he says, breaking her out of her trance. He's leaning on the counter facing her now, drying his hands off with the towel that had been sitting on the countertop. His hands are battered and scarred, no doubt from his years in the military, but she wants to reach out and hold them. Would his touch be rough and hard, or soft and gentle? Maybe a little bit of both, she thinks. He's a hardened war fighter, but over the two weeks she's known him, she hasn't seen a violent bone in his body. If he didn't come home every day in his fatigues, she wasn't sure she'd believe him.

"Hello? Olivia?"

"Hm?" He's standing in front of her now, a confused look in his face.

"Thought I lost you for a minute, there," he says, grinning. "I said, I'm having a great time hanging out with you."

"Oh. Me, too," Olivia answers. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me." He suddenly looks nervous. He fidgets for a moment, then takes a deep breath, focusing on her. "Listen, I, uh… I was just wondering if… you know, I've had fun going out to the pier and everything, but… would you like to go out to dinner with me? On a real date?"

Her heart flutters. She wants to say yes, God, she wants to go out with him. From what she's seen, he's a great guy, funny, caring, outgoing. Not to mention, she knows he has his shit together. She can't imagine a better partner. _Don't do this. You're gonna mess it up, he's not going to want anything to do with you. _She tries to silence those voices, but it's impossible. She's damaged goods, and as soon as he realizes it, he's not going to want anything to do with her. She can't let herself go through that.

She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Elliot, you're a great guy and everything, but… I just don't want to make things complicated between us. I think it would be better if we just stayed friends."

She sees him deflate, and her heart breaks. She's hurt him. She's led him on, and then dropped him like a hot potato when he finally worked up the courage to ask her out. What kind of person is she?

He does a good job in trying to hide his disappointment. He takes a deep breath, and nods, dropping his gaze. A forced laugh escapes from his lungs before he speaks. "Yeah, you're probably right. Sorry, I guess I just…" he gestures between them, "read this wrong."

_No, you didn't, _she wants to scream. _It's not you, Elliot, it's me. _

He checks his watch. "Listen, I should probably go. Gotta wake up at four tomorrow." He gives her a small smile. "Thanks for dinner. It was great."

"Elliot," She calls as he makes it to the door. He turns, and she says, "I really am sorry."

He waves her off. "Like I said, you're probably right. I'll see you around."

The door closes. Regret drowns her. _What did I just do?_

_—__-_

Elliot locks his front door, slips off his shoes, and immediately heads for the bathroom. He yanks his shirt over his head, then splashes his face with cold water before he finally allows himself to think. _What went wrong? I thought everything was going fine, I was sure she'd say yes. She seemed interested. _

_Of course a woman as beautiful as her isn't interested in someone like you. You're good for inviting over for dinner, going out for walks, not any sort of committed relationship. Who would want to deal with your crazy schedule, your deployments? _

Brutus approaches him, panting. Elliot kneels down to pet him. "Looks like it's gonna just be me and you forever, bud."

* * *

A/N: Please don't hate me... lol. Don't worry, Elliot's not gonna give up that easily ;) **Review for a sneak peak**, and an answer to whether Olivia will change her mind or not!

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	5. Risk

Olivia sits in the sedan with Raul. They're staking out the home of a suspected stalker; they've been there for ten hours and her eyes are watering from boredom.

"You never told me about a boyfriend," the detective next to her says.

"Why, interested?" she quips, eyes remaining on the door of their suspect.

She hears Raul chuckle next to her. "You know I'm married."

"Then why are you asking?" She finally turns towards him.

Raul shrugs. "We've been sitting in this car for almost eleven hours now, and I know you're just as bored as I am. Besides, we're partners, shouldn't we get to know each other?"

Olivia stares at him for a moment, and shrugs a shoulder. "I guess so. I don't have a boyfriend."

"But there's someone you're interested in."

Her eyebrows furrow. "Why do you think that?"

"I can see it in your eyes." Raul takes a sip of the stale coffee that's been sitting in the console for over six hours. "So, what's his name? Why haven't you taken a chance with him?"

"His name's Elliot." They've been partners for a couple of weeks, and she's gotten to know Raul quite well by now. He's a good cop, and a good man. She finds it easy to talk to him. "He asked me out a week or two ago, but I said no. We haven't really talked much since."

"Way to break a guy's heart," Raul says. "Of course he hasn't hung out with you since. Why'd you say no, if you're interested?"

Olivia has asked herself the same question. It's not like she wants to spend her life alone, and she knows she will be if she keeps rejecting people like she's rejected Elliot, but standing in front of him, hearing him ask her, the negativity swirled in her stomach like a hurricane brewing. The fear that he'll hurt her like so many men have done in the past is unavoidable. Lewis just cemented that fact.

"I like hanging out with him. I didn't want to ruin a friendship. Besides, we're neighbors. It would be a little awkward living next to an ex, wouldn't it?"

Raul shrugs. "Well, you're interested. You should go out with the guy, what's life without a little risk?"

Olivia sighs, turning back towards the apartment building. "I don't want to get burned."

Before Raul gets a chance to respond, the door opens and their suspect steps outside.

"There he is."

—

Elliot's pulling into his driveway at the same time Olivia's getting out of her car. She closes the door, and walks across the yard to meet him. "Hey! How's it going?"

"Hey," he answers, closing the door to his truck. She immediately notices how reserved he's become around her. There's a tight frown on his face, and bags under his eyes. He looks tired. "Alright, what's up?"

"Nothing," she says. "Well, actually, I was hoping I'd catch you. I wanted to know if you'd come over for dinner tomorrow."

She still isn't sure if she's ready to actually go out on a date or be in a relationship, but she knows what she wants: to at least be friends with him. The short amount of time that they've shared is special; she doesn't want to give that up because she's afraid of what might happen.

"I can't," he says, closing the door to his truck. "I've got another forty-eight hour patrol tomorrow. I won't be home again until Friday."

"Oh." Her heart deflates for a moment. "Well, what about Saturday, then?"

He sighs, fumbling with the keys in his hands. "I…"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" she blurts out, cutting him off. "I didn't mean to lead you on, I really didn't. I just… you don't want to go out on a date with me."

He shifts his weight from his left foot to his right. "If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have asked."

"I'm messed up, Elliot," she murmurs. "You're better off going out with someone else."

Elliot steps back from her, holding his arms out. "I don't know if you've noticed over the past few weeks," he says, "but this uniform means more than just putting it on in the morning. I've got more messed up shit in my mind than I know what to do with, I'm sure whatever's going on with you isn't any worse than what I've been through."

Her gaze drops; she wants to leave, but somehow she's rooted in the spot. His hands reach out, and take hers; they're rough, but gentle, a perfect depiction of him.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," she whispers, looking up at him.

He shrugs, thumb sliding across the back of her hand. "I'm a big boy. I can decide what's best for myself." He squeezes her hands. "Just give me a chance. That's all I'm asking for."

She's silent. Sure, he can say anything, but once he knows everything that's happened, he'll be singing a different tune.

"You've got until Saturday to decide," he says, dropping her hands. "You don't have to right now."

With that, he disappears into the house, leaving her standing the driveway, wondering how she'd ever gotten there in the first place.

—

The aircraft is at about 9,000 feet, and climbing. Elliot sits in the back, keeping a careful eye on his Marines. A nervous energy permeates the craft; they're getting ready to take the leap. Many of them have done this before, including Elliot, but it's always the same. A few of the Marines don't like heights. They push through the exercise to stay ready for the mission.

"You better not be this distracted when you make the jump, Stabler," Master Gunnery Sergeant Duncan says. His voice is low enough so the rest of the Marines can't hear their conversation.

"I'm alright, Master Guns," Elliot says.

"Bullshit. What's going on?"

"Women," Elliot grumbles finally. "They confuse the fuck out of me."

"How so?"

"You think you know what they want, they make it clear, then suddenly it's 'I just want to be friends', 'I don't want to complicate things, blah, blah blah." He huffs, pulling his black glove tighter over his left hand. "See, this is why I don't get involved with 'em. They just make my goddamn head spin."

"Women," Duncan chuckles. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

"I beg to differ."

Garrett smirks. "If that was so, you wouldn't be bitching about it If you really want a go at her, don't give her the option. Show her why she can't say no."

"Five minutes!" yells the jump master, signaling the Marines to get out of their seats. Elliot stands, and makes his way to the rear of the aircraft. They're almost at the drop zone- it's go time. He stands at the end of the line so he can watch the others make the jump. It's the jump master's job to make sure everything goes down smoothly, but he likes being a second pair of eyes, just in case.

Before he knows it, Elliot's staring out at the sky, nearly 13,000 feet in the air. There's nothing between him and free fall except a foot or so of metal under his feet. His heart's pounding, blood's racing through his veins, and his hands are tingling.

Yes, this is what he knows best. This is what he's built for: jumping out of planes, engaging in firefights and going toe-to-toe with insurgents. Nothing else matters up here other than him and his parachute.

The metal isn't below him anymore. There's rushing wind, the blue sky, and he forgets everything else other than what's happening now. The color of the sky is so intense it consumes him, everything is so peaceful he's surprised anything else can exist. No matter how many times he does this, it never ceases to amaze him.

The seconds of free-fall seem to go by in hours. He's been falling forever; talking to Sergeant Major Duncan happened in a different lifetime. There's an eternity between now and standing in the driveway with Olivia.

Finally, Elliot pulls the cord, and he's upright, floating safely to the earth below. He wishes the rest of his life could be this simple.

—

"So, have you taken mercy on that poor guy yet?"

Olivia's focused on filling out reports when Raul's words hit her. They've just closed Carlos Santiago's case; after a long interview and a tearful confession, they were able to arrest the father for physical abuse. Now, they sit at their desks in the squad room, filling out the necessary forms to put the case behind them. "Huh?"

"That guy you were talking about. Have you gone out with him yet?"

"No," Olivia says.

"Why not?"

The detective shrugs. To be honest, she's shocked Elliot's still interested. Personally, she definitely would not have appreciated being led on only to get rejected after working up the courage and taking a chance.

_"You don't know what you're getting yourself into." _

_ "Just give me a chance. That's all I'm asking for." _

_ It's one date. Nothing could go terribly wrong in one date, right? Besides, it's not much different from what I've been doing with him. _

"Why do you care so much? You don't know the guy," Olivia says.

Raul shrugs, a grin sliding across his face. "I guess I'm just a romantic. I root for the underdog. Plus, Lord knows the guy needs all the help he can get."

"I'm thinking about it," she says finally. He's persistent, and he's willing to take a chance on her. There's no one else than makes her feel quite like he does; she gets butterflies when she's around him, she looks forward to seeing him.

What's the worst that could happen?

—

Birds chirping and sunlight shining on his face awakens him. Elliot runs a hand over his face; there's a couple days of growth on his cheeks from lack of shaving. He yawns heavily, throws the covers back, and stretches as he stands. His muscles are still tight and sore from forty-eight hours straight of physical activity, he really just wants to crawl back into bed, but he dresses anyway, pours himself a glass of water in the kitchen, and opens the back door. Brutus bounds out into the yard.

Elliot stretches out on one of the lounge chairs he keeps on the patio, sighing as he takes a sip of water. The sun shines, warming his legs and bare feet. _Maybe I'll just stay here all day. _His eyes flutter closed.

Barking brings him out of his dozing. He sits up, eyes snapping open. Brutus has jumped up onto the fence at the edge of the property line, and he's barking excitedly as Olivia walks out onto her patio.

"Brutus!" Elliot commands. "Out, out!"

Olivia chuckles, walking over. Her thumbs are hooked into the front pockets of her jeans and there's a smile on her face. "Good morning."

"Morning," he answers, standing to meet her. The grass is cool and damp under his bare feet as he walks. He can't help the hope that pools in his stomach; he hopes she reconsiders his offer, he's never wanted to take anyone out more than he does her. "How's it going?"

"Alright." She sighs. They stand face to face, the fence between them. "How was work?"

"Good,"

"What exactly did you do for forty-eight hours?"

"Well, we started off with our monthly airborne jumps," Elliot says.

"Hold on," Olivia says, "you jumped out of an airplane?"

Elliot smiles. "Yeah, we do it all the time."

"What was it like?" she asks, leaning forward. Her eyes are sparkling, and Elliot can tell she's interested. His chest puffs a bit.

"It's a rush," Elliot says. He doesn't know how else to describe it.

"A lot of the things you do must be like that," Olivia murmurs, taking a long look at him.

"That's one of the reasons why I love it. I get to do things other people can only dream of," he admits, smiling softly. "I mean, who else jumps out of planes for a living?"

"Then again, you also risk your life every time you go to work, don't you?"

"Yeah, that's one of the downsides, I guess." Brutus whines a bit, and Elliot scratched behind the dog's ear. His eyes are glued to Olivia now; it's hard not to admire her.

"Just a downside?"

"I don't think about it like that," he says. "I'm sure you don't think like that, either, Detective."

She nods, and doesn't speak. He wants to ask if she's thought about his offer; the question's burning on his tongue, but his lips are sealed. _I'm not going to beg her, _he tells himself. _If she changed her mind, she can tell me on her own. _

"I was thinking about your offer," she begins quietly. Her gaze is glued to the green lawn in front of her. That's not a good sign. Elliot rubs his hands together, preparing for yet another rejection. _You should have never asked. Should've known better. _

"Were you?"

"Yeah," she says. "I'd love to go out with you."

_Wait, that wasn't a 'no'. _

The high from jumping out of the plane is nothing compared to this. Elliot nods, trying to hide the huge grin that's begging to spread across his face. "That's good to hear. How's tomorrow night?"

"Sounds good."

"Seven okay for you?"

She smiles at him. "It always is."

"Good. I'll see you then."

Elliot turns, and heads back to his chair before he makes a fool out of himself. He feels crazy; how could one date with one woman make him feel like this? They haven't even gone on the date, yet, anyway, just planned it.

It's a question that he hopes to answer soon. Something about this woman makes her special, and he'll do anything to figure out why that is. He doesn't care how long it takes.


	6. Plunge

A/N: Well, hello, lovelies. Sorry for the long wait for this one, I've been drowning in college finals, and then a relaxing vacation to Niagara Falls :) I'm back now, though, and I'm writing like a maniac. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Elliot's standing in the middle of his bedroom, staring blankly into his closet. It's six-thirty. He's been standing here for a good ten minutes, searching his perfectly organized closet for an appropriate outfit to wear on this date with Olivia. He knows it's a delicate balance; he doesn't want to scare her away with something too formal, but he doesn't want to look like a bum, either.

Well, he knows he's not going to wear one of his uniforms, so that's off the list. The last thing he wants is people to start walking up to him while he's trying to have a romantic night. Finally, he selects a pair of jeans, a light blue polo, and a gray sport jacket. He pulls at the lapels and rolls his shoulders as he stares into the mirror for a moment.

_Alright, not bad, Stabler. Looking good. _

He chooses a pair of perfectly polished black boots to round out the look.

_Well, at least if she rejects you, you know it won't be for your attire. _

Olivia answers her door after the second knock, and his mouth goes dry. His entire vocabulary flies from his mind, and he's standing there, a big pile of mush. She looks absolutely stunning, wearing a deep blue v-neck dress with a flowing skirt that ends directly below her knees. She's also put on makeup, but not too much, it brings out her eyes and makes her lips look that much more supple.

"Hey," she greets, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Hey," he manages, taking a single step back. _Can I just stand here and look at you all night? _"You look beautiful tonight."

She blushes a bit. He melts even more. How is it possible for one woman to make him feel like this?

"Thank you. You don't look so bad, yourself."

A grin spreads across his face. His vocabulary is slowly returning to him. "Thanks. Ready to go?"

"Of course."

He opens the truck door for her, and wonders how the hell she hasn't broken an ankle wearing the shoes she's got.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Olivia asks as Elliot pulls out of the driveway.

He shrugs, smiling easily. "Now, it wouldn't be exciting if I just came out and said it, would it?"

"You know, I hate surprises," she says, eyes focusing in on him.

"You're going to like this," Elliot says. _At least, I hope you're going to like this. _

—-

Elliot opens the door for Olivia, and offers her his hand as she steps out of the truck. "This doesn't look like a restaurant."

They're standing in the parking lot. Straight ahead, there's a large building. To her right, the Pacific Ocean spreads as far as she can see.

"We've already been out to a restaurant," he says, guiding her towards the path that leads out to the docks. "I figured we could do something a little different."

_What does he have planned? _

They walk all the way down the dock to the very edge of the marina. Elliot finally stops in front of the sailboat at the end. It's about thirty feet long, perfectly white, and she can instantly see him out here on the weekends, cleaning, waxing and buffing obsessively. "I didn't know you have a boat."

He grins at her. "Yep, I have a boat. This thing's my baby."

"How did you end up with it?" It looks pretty expensive, and she knows Marines aren't paid much better than police officers. There's no way she could afford one of these things.

Elliot chuckles as he steps onto the boat. He holds out a hand for her to take, and she carefully steps on. "On one of my deployments… Jesus, which one was it? My third, I think, I was working with this colonel who liked to go out into the field as often as he could. Well, he was out at the OP- sorry, that stands for outpost, pretty much just small forward operating bases- that I was stationed at, and we ended up in a firefight. Honestly, I don't even remember exactly what happened. The colonel was in cover next to me, I saw this grenade hit the ground next to him, and I just reacted. I grabbed him by his uniform, dove behind a couple of sandbags, and ended up tangled up with this high-ranking officer as the grenade explodes."

Elliot chuckles at the memory. "He never let me forget what happened. When we got back from deployment, the colonel invited me out for a sail on this baby. His wife is a well-paid doctor, they bought it brand new in, like, 2000, but she gets sea sick on any small craft, so he didn't have any one to go with."

"Until you came along," Olivia says. It seems like he has a story for everything.

"Pretty much. He was looking for a friend to go out with, I was happy to tag along. Well, anyway, he ended up retiring a couple years ago, and moved to Florida, but didn't want to lug this thing along with him. He offered to sell it to me, very cheap. I couldn't help myself."

"Sounds like it worked out for you." They're standing in the cockpit now. It's impossibly clean, with a small table in front of the steering wheel. A white table cloth covers it, and a blue cushion sits atop the white bench.

"It did." Elliot holds out his arm, encouraging her to take a seat. The boat is positioned so that she faces straight out to the water. The sun is still up, but she knows it'll be setting soon. Yes, he timed this perfectly. She watches him disappear into the cabin, and return a moment later, balancing a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands. "I don't know if you've had California wine yet. This stuff is great. I'm not a wine guy by any means, but I could drink a whole bottle of it."

He pours her a glass, then himself, and clinks them together. "Cheers."

He's right, the wine is delicious. She takes another long sip as he goes back down into the cabin to retrieve something else. It's a large bowl, and two smaller ones. The large on contains what looks like a chicken taco bowl mixture and rice. It's colorful, with juicy chicken, cheese, corn, cilantro, black beans and rice.

"I looked up a few different recipes," he says, setting down the meal and a bowl for each of them. "I've grilled for you the past three times we've had dinner together, I figured you might want a little variety."

"Looks good," she says.

He nods. "I hope it tastes as good. Dig in."

She's definitely impressed; it's delicious, and fits perfectly with her wine. The boat rocks gently, soothing and relaxing. As they eat, the sun begins to set, sending a million orange sparkles across the water, which is calm and a deep, deep blue. The sun is just above the horizon, spreading a warm orange across the sky. The few clouds are pillowy white.

"It's beautiful out here," she whispers, her eyes glued to the sunset.

Elliot slips his arm around back of the bench she sits against, nodding. "Yeah, it is."

He's warm, welcoming, and she just wants to curl up into his side. She controls herself, though, staying exactly where she is. He grabs his glass of wine, and finishes it off.

"Where do you go on this thing?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Around, wherever I can. I've been to Catalina Island. Went down to San Diego. I haven't been able to sail lately, I've been completely swamped with work and everything."

"Work," Olivia repeats, nodding. "What exactly do you do on a day to day basis, anyway?"

Elliot shrugs. "It differs day to day. We do physical training, runs, rucks, other training, like HALO, HAHO jumps, area recon, raids and ambushes, all kinds of stuff. I'm an NCO, I do some room inspections sometimes, give a few orders. Y'know."

"NCO?"

"Sorry, noncommissioned officer. That's any rank corporal and above. Staff sergeant and above are senior noncommissioned officers."

"And you're rank above staff sergeant, right?" she asks.

He nods, looking impressed. "That's right. You've done your homework."

Olivia smiles. "Yeah, maybe a little bit."

They sit silently for a long while, watching the sun finally set below the horizon. Olivia shivers, and Elliot immediately takes off his jacket, slinging it around her shoulders. She's grateful for it; usually, she feels like such a girl when a man gives her anything of his, but it's not like that with him. He makes her feel comfortable.

—

Elliot's heart is pounding when he pulls the truck into her driveway. He opens his door, then hers, and they walk leisurely up the driveway to her front door. The dinner went even better than he expected, so he's almost relieved. Like always, he enjoys spending the time with her.

"I had a great time," Olivia says. "Thanks for everything, Elliot."

She's fumbling with her keys. Elliot takes a deep breath, and nods. His hands are itching to just reach out and touch her. He folds them behind his back to keep control. "Glad you said yes?"

Olivia chuckles. "Yeah, I'm glad I said yes."

"Me too." This is just too torturous. A lock of hair has fallen from its place carefully tucked behind her ear, begging to be brushed back. His hand reaches forward, and he gives into temptation. To his surprise, she leans in. He was sure she'd pull away. His heart's doing something strange in his chest; he doesn't quite know what it is, but he likes it.

She's still fumbling with her keys. He wonders if she's waiting for him to kiss her, but dismisses the thought. He had to jump through hoops to get her to give him a chance, and he definitely doesn't want to ruin it by assuming too much.

He wants to kiss her, though. Looking at her soft pink lips, so full and inviting, there's nothing he wants more than to cover them with his own. He wonders what she would do if he wraps his arm around her waist, pulls her close and just does it. Would she push him away? Slap him? Or lean in closer and kiss him back?

Finally, he moistens his lips, leans in close, and presses his lips to her cheek. "Thank you for giving me a chance, Olivia." He murmurs, mouth close to her ear. He doesn't know how her hand came to be squeezed in his grip, but he immediately notices how well they fit together. "I hope we can do it again sometime."

Olivia nods. "I'd like that."

He backs away, and their hands fall apart. His instantly feels cold. "See you around."

"You will," she answers.

—-

_He's different. _

That fact is so blatant that she'd be a fool not to see it. Any other man would have no qualms about going in for the kiss, or maybe even taking it further. But Elliot? No. Just a simple peck on the cheek, hopes that he'll see her again, and a thanks.

He _thanked_ her for taking her out. She almost can't believe it.

There's absolutely no doubt in her mind; she most certainly wants to see him again.

* * *

A/N: I know, I know. It was short. Just thought this would be a good place to end it. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think of their date! Also, like always, leave a review to get a sneak peak of the next chapter.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	7. Headway

A/N: Hey, everyone. Not much to say here, just read and enjoy ;)

* * *

The water is freezing. That's in the forefront of Elliot's mind; he's the first to descend the fifty foot guide rope to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. In the murky depths, he can't see more than ten feet in front of him, and the pressure is unreal. He breathes through his mouthpiece as normally as possible, watching the rest of the men reach depth.

He's always felt at home in the ocean, even from childhood. Some of his earliest memories are of the coastline in Jersey with his mother; no matter how eccentric she may have been, those are some of the best memories he has. It's no shock that he chose the Marines out of the five branches, or that he decided to take on the challenge of combat diver school as a part of his reconnaissance training.

This deep, though, the ocean is radically different. He can't slip back up to the surface when the depths become overwhelming, the water is far more frigid than the comfortably cool beaches, and he isn't wearing his swim trunks. There's a hundred pounds of gear on his body, including the heavy rebreather that allows him to get oxygen this deep in the water. It makes every stroke a challenge.

The squad is performing a long-distance underwater dive. Like the parachute qualification, combatant divers also need to brush up on their skills every so often as well. In fact, almost all of the men that performed the parachute jump are here in the water with him. Thanks to their jobs, both are required. Personally, he'd rather jump out of a plane. No matter how much a man in the squad loves to swim, the underwater dives are killers.

The long, silent dive gives him a while to think. And, surprise, surprise, his beautiful neighbor is at the forefront of his mind. It seems like she's occupying more and more of his mind each day. Their date had gone exactly the way he wanted it to; he knew a city girl such as herself would appreciate the calm quiet of the Pacific. He definitely did when he first moved out here. He still does, every time he gets the chance to spend time on his boat. It's one of the best ways he knows to keep his stress under control.

_"I'd like that."_

They're a few of the most magical words he's ever heard. _She wants to see you again. _

He feels like a kid when he thinks about her. Those were the only days where a female made him feel like this; the ideas of infatuation, romance, they have no place in the life of someone like him. He's _never_ been a romantic, he's never really understood women, hell, the only serious relationship he's been in ended just about as badly as one _can_ end. But Olivia makes him want to change that. More than anything, he wants to impress her. Woo her. And if he tries, really tries, he knows without a doubt that he'll be able to. In fact, he already has an idea for their next outing.

—-

_"No one's coming to rescue you, Officer Benson. We have plenty of time to play." _

_"You like watching? You'll love it inside you even more." _

Olivia massages her temple for a moment, calming her emotions as she listens to the statement of the young woman across from her. Her hazel eyes are red, puffy, and full of tears as she recounts the details of the abuse she suffered at the hands of her husband of six years.

"Tom's in the Army now. He got back from Iraq a few months ago," Kailey says, wiping at her eyes. The statement immediately peaks her interest. Elliot immediately pops into the forefront of her brain as she listens to the twenty-three year old woman. "I-I swear he was never like this before. After he got home, things just changed."

"Changed how?" Olivia asks.

"H-he would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. Every little noise sent him over the edge. I tried to convince him to get help, but he refused. Two nights ago… he just snapped."

"And he hurt you?"

"I-I swear he didn't mean to. I came home from work, and… it was like he was a different person, like he didn't even recognize me." She swipes at her eyes, swallowing as she no doubt tries to keep her composure. "He beat me."

"It's going to be okay, Kailey," Raul says gently. "We're gonna go get him, he's not going to hurt you anymore."

"You don't understand," Kailey sobs. Tears stream down her face. "He can't go to prison, he needs help."

"Kailey, he physically abused you. We have to arrest him."

"Just get him help. Please, he… the combat changed him. It's not his fault."

Olivia sits back in her chair, shooting Raul a look. He takes a deep breath, and speaks. "We're gonna go pick up your husband and talk to him, okay? If what you say is true, he'll get the help he needs, but you have to tell a jury what he's done to you."

"If I do that, he'll go to prison."

"If you go back home, he's just going to hurt you more," Olivia says. "Maybe even kill you. He's not going to get help if you go back."

Kailey takes a deep breath, wiping her eyes. "I just don't know if I can do this to him."

—-

Olivia sighs heavily as she gets out of her car. She and Raul had spent the remaining hours of work on the same case, picking Tom up from the apartment and attempting to interview him. He'd asked for a lawyer as soon as they walked into the start the interview, though, so she knew that they weren't going to get very far. After hearing what Kailey had to say about her husband, she wasn't surprised at all to find that Tom and his lawyer were using his tours of combat and PTSD as a defense.

For whatever reason, Kailey's words are stuck in her mind. _The combat changed him. It's not his fault. It was like he was a different person. _

_Could that be true? _She's heard some of the horror stories of PTSD, of course, but could it be so severe that the soldier truly believed he was in danger, with his own wife?

Her gaze is automatically drawn to the house next door, where the driveway is currently empty. It's five thirty, but that doesn't mean much. From what Olivia has gathered, his schedule varies wildly. She can't help but hope he gets back soon; he's the only person that she knows that could shed some light on the situation.

Speak of the devil. Just as her hand hits the doorknob, Elliot's gray truck rolls into the driveway. He gets out with a bottle of water in his hand, notices her immediately, and waves. "Hey!"

"Hey," she answers, crossing the small yard. "How was your day?"

"Busy," he says, circling to the back of the truck to grab a green bag out of the bed. He drops the bag onto the driveway next to the door, and explains, "Wet uniforms. We were out on the ocean all day."

"Doing what?" she asks.

"We did a long distance dive and some surf passage exercises. You know, getting on an inflatable boat and hitting the surf." He winces at the memory. "Pretty painful when you don't do things right."

"You mean you still have to do that stuff? I thought you were one of the ones in charge," Olivia says, bumping his shoulder lightly.

He shrugs, grinning as he adjusts the cap on his head. "Everyone needs practice, you know. How would I look in front of the Marines if I couldn't do half the shit I was supposed to do?"

Olivia nods. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"So how was your day?" Elliot asks, taking another sip of his water.

"Fine. Well, actually, I have a question," Olivia says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Shoot."

"This may seem… out of the blue, but it's important. Have you ever seen, or heard of a Marine… becoming abusive after returning from combat?"

Elliot frowns deeply, and lets out a breath. "Yeah. More than you'd think. Why, did you get a case?"

She nods. "I can't really get into it, but his lawyer's saying he did it because of PTSD, the stress of combat… something like that. Even the wife is going along with it."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, I've never seen it," she admits. "That's why I'm asking you."

Elliot's silent for a long moment. He takes another sip of his water before he finally speaks. "Years ago, before I went to Recon School, there was this Marine in my platoon. We'd just returned from a deployment. I've seen PTSD before, I know what the symptoms are, and this guy had it bad. If you dropped a rifle mag on the floor, he almost jumped out of his skin. Went days without sleeping, got hammered almost once a day. He even showed up drunk to a physical training session. Long story short, he ended up getting medically discharged. Three weeks later, he was arrested for killing his girlfriend. He said the attack was triggered by a flashback."

"And you believed him?" Olivia asks.

Elliot shrugs. "I dunno. What I do know, is that it's _very_ easy to lose your bearings over there, and when you come back… it's even easier."

"Has it happened to you?" The question comes out so soft that she'll be surprised if he hears her. She didn't mean to ask it, but her curiosity gets the best of her. Even though he's been nothing but a gentleman to her, from what he's telling her and what she's seen, it doesn't take much. She tries to imagine him losing it. She knows he's been on many deployments, it would be easy to come back with some of the symptoms she's heard of. Nightmares, insomnia, flashbacks… but it's impossible to see him in that role.

She feels naive thinking that it's not possible. Just like Tom snapped, there's a chance that any soldier or Marine could. That's including the one that stands directly in front of her.

_He's been through it so many times. If it was gonna happen, it would have by now, wouldn't it? I'd be able to tell. _

_That's not true. _

—-

Elliot hears the question, but he almost wishes he hasn't. He shifts uncomfortably, staring at his bottle of water for a long moment. _What do I say to that? _Finally, he smiles grimly at her. "I can't reveal all my secrets now, can I? I do want another date, you know."

"Well, it'd be nice to know if you're gonna come after me thinking I'm an insurgent or whatever. Even though I'm sure I could handle you." She elbows him lightly.

"I'm not gonna come after you, you don't have to worry about that. You're way to pretty to be al Qaeda."

"Oh, shush," she says, shoving him playfully. He immediately notices the slight blush creeping across her cheeks.

He laughs, then takes another sip of water. "Hey, it's true."

They stand in silence for a moment before things turn serious again. He asks, "So, what's gonna happen to this guy?"

Olivia shrugs. "What happened to your friend?"

"He overdosed on pain meds before the trial, died before he even made it to the hospital. They ruled it as a suicide."

It's one of the worst losses he's had to deal with. No, he wasn't very close to the guy, they only spoke once or twice after returning from deployment, but every loss stings, especially one that could have been prevented. The guy went through eight months of sheer hell (it'd been one of the worst deployments he's been on, even including his stints in Recon), just to come home and die from a few too many pills. It just seems unfair.

"Oh." There's guilt in her eyes, like she regrets even asking. "I'm so sorry."

Elliot does his best to give her a smile. "It happens, unfortunately."

—-

He's standing with one hand in his pocket, and the other holding his bottle of water. Despite all efforts to hide it, his sorrow is palpable. Olivia's heart is sinking in his chest. Out of all the love he's shown for his career choice, she knows there's an equal amount of pain he's suffered. It's taking her everything she has not to pull him into a hug and comfort him. Finally, he clears his throat. "So, uh- what's gonna happen to the guy?"

"We arrested him. He's going to trial," she says.

Elliot nods, finishing his water. "Do me a favor. Look into this PTSD thing. I'm not trying to excuse what the guy did, but… combat makes people do shit they never would have done otherwise."

She has no doubt about that now. Maybe Kailey was right, maybe if Tom never went off to war, he wouldn't have attacked her. It's something they definitely have to look into.

"We definitely will. Thanks for the insight."

"My pleasure. You know where to find me if you need any more." He gives her a smile. "I'm gonna go hop in the shower and have something to eat, I'm starved. But, uh, you doing anything this weekend?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm not on call," she says.

"Great. Well, I'm hiking out in Crystal Cove on Saturday. There's a few real great views, it's definitely worth it if you want to join me."

"You mean, you don't get enough physical exercise during the week, you need to go on the weekends, too?"

He chuckles. "Trust me, the weekend ones are a lot more fun."

There's a twinkle in his eyes, and he's making it nearly impossible to say no. Besides, she'd much rather get some exercise in the great outdoors rather than in the gym on a boring treadmill. Now that she lives out here, she's determined to make that a priority. She's never been to Crystal Cove either; she knows nothing about it except that it's a state park in the area, not too far away.

"Sure, I'll come along," she says. "Sounds like a good time."

A grin breaks out across his face. "Good. I'll text you tomorrow with the time and everything."

"Sounds good."

When she walks into her living room, she's feeling better. Thanks to him, she has a better grasp on what could be going on in Tom's mind. What he did is still inexcusable, that she's sure of that, but maybe he can get the help he obviously needs.

Not to mention, she now has some pretty great plans to look forward to.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Next up is another date... and maybe something else ;) Remember, **review to get a sneak peak**. The more feedback I get, the better the next update :)

Also, if you haven't already, follow me on Twitter Stabson10.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	8. Pursuit

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone that reviewed last chapter. As always, your support means the world to me. I love hearing from you all. A special thanks goes out to PaperFrames on this one. Thanks for helping me out on this one, girl, you're the best! :)

Anyway, enjoy...

* * *

It's Saturday morning. Olivia stands in front of her dresser, drawers half open, absolutely stumped. _What do you wear on a hike? Jeans? _

This is almost harder than figuring out what to wear on their last date. She'd spent nearly an hour staring into her closet like an idiot, thoughts whirring in her mind. It had been an anxiety-ridden process, to say the least. Looking attractive but not being too exposed had been a balance that was nearly impossible to achieve, and in the end, she ended up wearing a pair of spandex shorts under her dress. Not one of her proudest moments, but, hey, she'd rather be safe than sorry.

At least today, pants are acceptable. She finally decides on a pair of great pants she usually goes running in, a light blue t-shirt, and brings along a zip-up jacket, just in case.

There's a knock on her door just as she takes her phone off of the charger and slips it into her pocket. When she opens it, Elliot's waiting for her, dressed in a pair of tan pants, hiking boots and a loose-fitting forest green t-shirt. There's a baseball cap embroidered with tan and brown American Flag on his head.

"G'morning," he greets. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," she answers, closing the door behind her. "Was I supposed to bring anything, or…? I wasn't sure."

"Don't worry about it, you're fine," he says, opening the passenger side door of the truck for her. "I've got everything we need."  
Elliot rolls the windows down and leaves a hand hanging out as he drives. It's a beautiful day; a cool breeze flows through the vehicle and the radio plays more songs from his iPod. Today, the playlist is mix of Led Zeppelin, ZZ Top and Jimi Hendrix. _All Along the Watchtower_ is just finishing as they reach the parking lot. He parks close to the entrance, and, like the gentleman he is, opens the door for her. As she gets out, he walks around back, grabs a backpack covered with the same desert camouflage as his work fatigues, and slings it over his shoulders.

"What's in there?" she asks as they walk towards the trails.

"I'm in the military, remember?" Elliot says. "I can't go anywhere without supplies. Rather be safe than sorry."

"Oh, alright," she says, chuckling. They're walking along a dirt trail now.

"So, we have a few options here," he says, "depending on how daring you're feeling. There's the three mile, five mile and nine mile hikes. They're all pretty nice, they all get you a view of the canyon, the ridge and the ocean."

"I dunno, which one's best?" she asks.

"The longest one," he answers immediately. "You've got to experience the whole thing."

"Okay, lead the way."

She wonders what she was thinking as they make a right turn and promptly run into a steep incline. He refers to it as the BFI- 'Big Fucking Incline'- and promises that it'll be worth it when they reach the top. It's short, only about a half mile, but the steepness is killer.

"If I knew this was what we had to hike up, I would have chosen the three mile one," she huffs as they walk. They're about three quarters of the way up, and she's feeling the burn in her calves.

On the other hand, Elliot's in front of her, walking with gusto. There's a grin on his face as he looks back at her. When he speaks, he's not even out of breath. _Jesus, is this guy superhuman?_ "C'mon, we're almost there. Then it's smooth sailing."

When they finally reach the top of the BFI, it feels like the entire world is spread out before them. Sprawled out on one side is the ocean, stretching as far as the eye can see. On the other, there's a canyon and ridge covered with dark green wild grass and spotted with flowers. She's never seen anything like it; it almost takes her breath away.

"See? Wasn't so bad, was it?" he teases, a grin plastered across his face..

"If that's what the rest of the trail is like, I think I'll turn back now," she answers.

Elliot laughs as they continue walking. "That's the worst of it, I promise."

They walk in silent for about a half mile before Elliot speaks again. "So, what's going on with that case you got? The soldier with PTSD."

"We had a psych eval done on him," Olivia says. "It was no joke, he really does have serious post traumatic stress disorder. We were told that it could have caused him to attack his wife."

Elliot nods, silent for a long moment. "That kills me," he admits quietly. "It all could have been avoided."

"He wasn't willing to admit he had a problem," Olivia says. "If he had, maybe he could have gotten help earlier."

"You don't understand. It's hard enough coming back and readjusting _without_ PTSD, with it it's just a nightmare. Asking for help…"

"You're telling me you'd do the same thing as he did? Abuse your wife?"

"I'd jump on a grenade before hurting _any_ woman," he says. "That's what I'm telling you."

Olivia nods silently. She wonders if Tom would have said the same thing before what's happened… then again, Elliot's been in the military several times longer than he has, and from what she knows, his deployments could get a hell of a lot worse. She takes comfort in thinking that if the man beside her was going to go off the deep end, he would have already. She trusts him.

Elliot takes a deep breath. "Is he being charged?"

"We're working on a plea bargain for him."

"Suppose that's fair." Elliot says.

"Yeah. Let's talk about something else," she says. It's her weekend, and though she enjoys the fact that he's interested in her work, she'd much rather enjoy her time off. "So, what did your week look like?"

"The usual. Long distance underwater dive, a couple ruck marches, and some patrols."

"In other words, a lot of walking."

He chuckles. "Yeah, quite a bit."

"And you still come out here with me on a nine mile hike?" she asks, bumping her shoulder with his. "Are you nuts?"

"Believe me, compared to what I do with the squad at work, this is nothing. I'm usually carrying a hundred pounds on my back then."

"Jesus," she murmurs, staring at her feet for a moment. _No wonder you walked up that hill without breaking a sweat. _

They walk for four or five miles before Elliot veers off the trail. "C'mon, let's take a break."

"Feeling tired?" she teases, following him. It's just after noon, and they've been hiking for about a two hours.

"No." Elliot sits down on the edge of the steep cliff, letting his legs dangle over the edge, and slips his backpack off his shoulders. He looks up at her, and asks, "Want to join me?"

"And fall off the cliffside? No thanks," she says.

"Oh, come on. Don't worry, I'll catch you if you fall." Elliot holds out his hand, swinging his legs lightly. "You've got to just sit down and look out at this view for a minute."

"Alright, alright," she sighs. "But if I fall to my death, I'm gonna haunt you."

"You'll be fine." She takes his hand, and sits down beside him. The grin on his face is unmistakeable; it makes her smile a bit. She takes a moment to admire the view; it's beautiful. There's a perfect view of the ocean as well as part of the canyon. If he's trying to impress her out here, it's definitely working.

After sitting silently for a moment, he reaches for his backpack. "Want lunch? I brought some food."

Olivia frowns. "I didn't even think about that… I didn't bring anything."

"Good," he says, pulling out two neatly wrapped sandwiches. "Cuz I brought enough for both of us. Here you go, I hope you like ham and turkey."

"Thank you," she says, taking the sandwich. It's on a bulky roll. "Wait, does this have mustard on it?"

He frowns, looking unsure of himself all of the sudden. "Uh, yeah. Is that okay?"

"I have to tell you," she begins. "Ham and turkey with mustard is probably my favorite sandwich."

Elliot nods, grinning as he takes a big bite of his. "Well, that's good. If not, I'd have to dig something else out of this pack, don't want you to go hungry."

"Well, you know, it would have been my own damn fault for not bringing my own food," Olivia says. "Always be prepared, isn't that what you military people say?"

Elliot chuckles. "That's the Boy Scouts, 'Liv."

It takes her a moment to process what he's said. _Liv? _"Huh?"

"You know, the Boy Scouts. Be prepared-

"No, not that," she interrupts. "What did you call me?"

"Oh." He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. She swears there's a twinge of a blush creeping across his face. "Sorry, it just… came out."

"It's okay," she says. She's never been one for nicknames, but that one syllable coming from him… it sounds _right_. A smile breaks out across her face. "You can call me Liv if you want."

"Good," he says, bumping his shoulder gently against hers. "Cuz I'm gonna."

—-

She laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound Elliot's ever heard. The need is coming back; he'd like to just sweep her up and press his lips against hers. _Get a grip, Stabler. Just ear your food. _

They eat in relative silence, the sounds of wildlife and passing hikers filling the void. When they finish their sandwiches, he takes the plastic wrap, puts it in his pack, and gives her a mini bottle of water. "Drink up. Don't want you to get dehydrated."

She finishes it in a matter of minutes. "So, how long have you been coming out here?"

"Pretty much since I moved," he says. "I took one hike, and fell in love with it. It's a great way to keep exercising, and beautiful."

"You've got that right," she murmurs. "It is beautiful."

Elliot turns towards her, and smiles, taking her in. The park isn't the only thing that captures his eye. When she catches him staring, he isn't embarrassed, and he makes no move to look away. Her caramel eyes are mesmerizing. He doesn't know how they come to be so close, but before he knows it, their foreheads are together, faces so close that he can feel her breaths on his skin. He's falling hard for this woman. He doesn't know how it happened, or why, but there's no doubt about it.

His heart is pounding in his throat, eyes glued to her lips… they look so soft, warm, supple… his arm tightens around her waist, and he wants to close the tiny distance more than he's ever wanted anything in the world.

It's going to happen. The world stops, he allows his eyes to close, and…

It's gone in an instant. _What the hell just happened?_

—-

_Lewis brought down his head for a kiss, but she pulled away, and began to struggle, violently yanking at the restraints on her wrists. He grabbed her chin, held it in place, and thrust their lips together. Blood seeped into her mouth as his teeth chomped down on her bottom lip. His sadistic laugh made bile rise in her throat; he was going to have his way with her, and there's nothing she could do. _

Her heart's pounding in her throat. She lunges, nearly toppling over in the process. A strong arm keeps her in place, which only succeeds in sending more cold fear shooting up her spine.

"Hey, take it easy." It's a gentle voice, nothing like Lewis's patronizing tone. She's not with him. She's with Elliot.

Elliot.

She can't bring herself to look at him right now. There's going to be disappointment in his eyes, he's going to wonder why she pulled away so suddenly, and why she almost pitched herself over the side of the cliff. She can't bare to answer those questions right now.

"Do you have any more water?" she asks quietly after a long moment of awkward silence.

It takes him a moment to answer her. "Yeah."

She takes the bottle he offers her, and sips at it. She still hasn't even looked at him, and she's wondering when he's going to ask what the hell is going on. The question doesn't come. She hears him take a drink from his own bottle, suck in a breath… but he doesn't say anything.

_What is he thinking right now? _

_—-_

Elliot's at a loss for words. He opens his mouth several times to speak, but absolutely nothing is coming out. His head is spinning in so many different directions that it's beginning to pound; he thought he knew exactly what was happening between them, but once again, she baffles him.

_Maybe she just wants to be friends. Maybe she's really not into me like that. _

_A normal woman doesn't flinch that hard when she's about to kiss someone. There's something wrong. There's something she's not telling me. _

"Want to head out?" he asks finally. The question is burning on his lips: _what happened to you that was so awful you can't kiss me? _

_—-_

Over the next week, their communication is sporadic at best. They eat dinner together on Wednesday over his place, but the awkward almost-kiss remains far from the conversation, almost like it hadn't happened at all. Olivia still knows it happened, though, and dreads the moment when he'll ask her about it. After all, there's only so long they can put the topic off. Eventually, he'll want to know. She has no desire to shed any light on what had happened; she's not nearly ready to divulge that information. It's too personal. Not to mention, there's no doubt in her mind that he'll pull away. What man would want to be with a woman with those kinds of demons in her past?

_Eventually you'll have to tell him. It's not like you can hide it forever, especially with… what he did. _

Olivia goes straight home after work on Thursday night. She doesn't speak to Elliot, doesn't speak to anyone, really, just heats up some leftovers from earlier in the week, picks at them for a little while, and then turns the TV on as she cleans up and does the dishes.

She's tired after a long week, and there's still one more day to go. Around nine o'clock, she decides to retire early and climbs into bed.

A loud _bang _awakens her several hours later_._ Her heart's pounding as she reaches into the bedside table for her gun. _What the hell was that? _

Her immediate thought is to call for help, but she curses when she realizes she's left her phone on the charger in the kitchen. Silently, she slips out of bed and through the darkness towards the doorway. Her gun is raised as she slides down the hallway, her back towards the wall. There's no one; the house is now silent. _Maybe I was hearing things. _The cellphone is fully charged when she reaches the kitchen. She slips it into the pocket of her pajama pants, takes a look around, and shakes her head, squeezing the bridge of her nose. _You've got to learn to relax. There's no one here. _

Her eye catches the window as she begins the trek back to her bedroom. The curtain is billowing out from the wind.

She never leaves the window open. The hand that holds her service weapon raises once again, but it's too late. Pain flashes through her head, and the gun clatters to the floor.

* * *

A/N: Review for a sneak peek of the next chapter... you're definitely not gonna want to miss it.

Also, follow me on Twitter Stabson10.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening! :)

-Stabson


	9. Safe

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. The wait is now over, here are the answers to some of your questions...

* * *

Elliot shoots up from bed blindly. His heart's pounding in his throat, he's soaked in sweat, and his hand is reaching blindly for a weapon that isn't there. The darkness around him is choking him; he just needs to see again.

The cool, dark Californian bedroom greets him when his eyes finally adjust to the lack of light. Elliot sighs, collapsing back against the mattress. He's exhausted; his muscles are pleading for rest, but he can't bare to close his eyes again. Finally, he throws the blanket back, and heads for the bathroom. The water is cool when he steps under the spray.

"Relax," he says aloud, as if saying the word would expel what felt like the sinking brick in his chest. He drops his forehead against the cool tiles, forcing his breathing to even out.

It takes several long, painful minutes for him to finally relax a bit and turn off the water. The silence of the house, a quality that he usually appreciates, is now killing him. Despite the cool shower, his muscles simply won't relax, and he's ready for a firefight at any moment, like he's still in the middle of a warzone in Iraq rather than a quiet California suburb.

When he exits the bathroom, Brutus trots up to him and whines. Elliot drops to his knees, running both hands over his smooth, shining coat. The shepherd licks his face, and he doesn't stop him. Somehow, the dog always senses when something is wrong. It's done wonders for Elliot to have him around, and he appreciates Brutus immeasurably.

His senses are still on high alert when he stands. That's the only thing that he can attribute to how he can hear the bang and the clatter from next door.

—-

Olivia's heart is pounding. She's struggling and fighting as hard as she can, but her body is betraying her. Cigarettes burn her skin once again. Lewis's body is above her, taunting her, the horrid bulge in his pants is burning her thigh.

_"__You like this? I know you want it." _

His open hand scorches her skin. His fists slam down mercilessly on her stomach, her face.

_It's happening again. You're too weak to actually protect yourself _again.

The memories are so vivid in her mind that she doesn't feel the weight of the man disappear from on top of her.

_"__C'mon, I know you know your way around a cock." _

_"__Yeah, that's it. You're gonna like it inside you even more." _

_STOP._

Olivia's eyes burst open, and she scurries backwards, the fog of terror over her mind refusing to lift. _What the hell is going on?! _

She's in California, in her home. The home invader isn't Lewis, nor is he on top of her anymore; he's on the ground with another man, a mess of tangled limbs. It takes her a moment to realize who it is.

_Elliot! _

She's telling herself to get up and help him, but her limbs are frozen in place, refusing to move. _Come on, fucking body! _Her heart's pounding so hard in her chest that it hurts; it feels like she's about to have a heart attack. Her service weapon lays under the table across the room from where she dropped it earlier. Even if she could force her limbs to cooperate, the two men are between her and it, and there's no way she's going to make her way around them.

A shining piece of metal makes ice flow through her veins. The man slashes at Elliot from his position on the floor, making contact with his forearm and immediately drawing blood. Elliot falls back a step, shocked for a moment, and man is standing in a second, holding the knife forward threateningly. Olivia's heart skips a beat; Elliot's back is to her, putting himself between her and her attacker, but it does nothing to squelch the fear.

The next movements go by in what seems like a millisecond. The man tries to close the distance between them, but in one fluid motion, Elliot grabs the wrist the holds the knife, propels the man onto his back, and snaps the man's arm over his knee. There's a sickening crack as he cries out in pain. Two savage right hooks hit home, sending blood spurting from the man's nose, and before Olivia knows it, Elliot's got him in a chokehold.

Blood streams down the attacker's chin as he tries to fight Elliot off, but the struggling doesn't last long. Elliot's not letting go no matter what, even she can see that. He's unconscious in moments.

—-

The pain is just starting to flow through his forearm. Elliot's covering the wound with a towel Olivia gave him, sitting on the arm of her couch as he's being interviewed by an officer.

"That cut looks pretty deep," the gray-haired officer says. "We better get you checked out by the medic."

There's an ambulance with flashing lights outside. The officer guides him to the back, sits him down, and a young man in a blue uniform approaches. "Hey, my names's Jason. Doing okay?"

"I'm alright," Elliot says. "Think I might just need a couple of stitches on this."

"Alright, I'll take a look," Jason takes his forearm gently, and peels back the bloodied towel. His wound is pretty deep, and caked with blood, which still seeps out.

"Looks like it hurts." Olivia stands next to Jason, a look of guilt in her eyes. She's wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, arms crossed over her chest. Her bottom lip is sucked into her mouth.

Elliot shrugs, giving her an easy smile as Jason begins to clean the wound. It stings, but it's nothing he isn't used to. He ignores it. "It looks worse than it feels."

Olivia sits beside him. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "This is my fault, I should've…"

"Don't." He can't take the look of guilt and embarrassment in her eyes. "Scumbag got the jump on you, there's nothing to be embarrassed about that. Trust me, it's okay."

"Sir?" Jason says. "You're right, it looks like you're going to need stitches. We can take you to the hospital in the back of the ambulance."

"No, no, it's alright," Elliot says, checking his watch. He sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. It's already three o'clock; looks like he's not going into work in a few hours. "Just bandage it up and I can get myself over there."

The medic looks hesitant, but eventually does as Elliot asks, bandaging the wound with gauze and white medical tape.

"I'll take you over there," Olivia says, standing with Elliot.

"It's alright. Go on back to bed, you've got to work in the morning."

"Elliot, it's my fault you got hurt in the first place. I'll take you."

Elliot stares at her for a moment, taking her in. She's standing in front of him, arms crossed, looking directly into his eyes. He looks back, trying his best to gauge her state of mind. She's trying to be strong. She's trying to brush off the attack like it never happened, but it's affecting her on a deep level. She's angry that this happened, and she's angry that he had to come to her rescue. He's not surprised; she's a cop, she's supposed to be able to take care of herself. There's something deeper, though. There's a haunted look in her eyes, some part of them displaying clearly that it's not the first time she's been in a situation like this.

_She's a cop. Of course she's no stranger to physical violence, it's part of her job. _

_No. There's something else. _

It's killing him. He wants to just ask her, but knows that he's got to respect her privacy. If she wants him to know, she'll tell him. Otherwise, he's got to keep a step back. Despite their attempted kiss, they're getting close, he doesn't want to ruin it with her now.

Finally, Elliot nods. "Alright, let's go."

—-

Once they get into the emergency room, it doesn't take long for Elliot to get taken care of. He reclines comfortably on the hospital bed, arm resting next to him as the doctor works on it. Olivia watches from the corner of the room, arms crossed protectively over her chest, as he stares straight ahead, not really looking at anything, not even flinching when the stitching needle pierces his skin.

Finally, the doctor finishes his work, and exits, leaving the pair alone. She moves closer to him, and sits on the edge of the bed. "How did you know?"

Elliot shrugs. "I heard something going on over your place, came to check on you, and the window was wide open. When I heard you yell… I knew something was wrong."

Olivia nods. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he answers, gingerly sliding his injured arm into his green fleece. "Believe me, it's not a big deal."

She slides closer to him, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. "You don't know what a big deal it is."

Elliot slips his legs over the side of the bed, sitting so close to her that their hips are nearly touching. There are bags under his eyes, stubble on his cheeks, and he looks all around exhausted, like he hadn't been sleeping even before he burst into her house to her rescue.

"How can I repay you?" she asks softly.

"Why would you have to repay me?" he says. Somehow, he sounds insulted. "What was I supposed to do, let that slime do whatever he wanted with you?"

"I guess not."

Elliot leans forward, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know what's happened to you in your past. I'm not asking you to tell me anything you don't feel comfortable with," he says softly. She jumps as his hand makes contact with her back, but he's making no move to pull it away. He squeezes his arm around her, as if letting her know that it's just him, and he's not going to do anything to hurt her. "But I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

He chuckles almost nervously. "I know we've only been on a few dates, it's really not my place to be talking to you like this. But… I feel connected to you, Liv. Tell me I'm wrong, tell me that you don't feel the same way."

"You're not wrong," she whispers.

He nods, his arm tightening around her waist. She knows what's going to happen next; he's going to go in for kiss.

There's no reason he should believe that the outcome of this attempt will be any different than the one at the top of Crystal Cove. He's still confused, still curious as to why she's so reserved around him and why she pulled away so suddenly before, but none of that matters now. She's sitting here with him, making no move to slip out of his grasp. He wonders briefly if this could be taking advantage of her in a time of weakness. It's short-lived, because her lips so close to his is turning his brain to mush.

Elliot saved her. With no obligation, for no other reason than he cares about her wellbeing, he came over to her place, risked his life, and beat the ever-loving shit out of the man who had tried to hurt her. She wants to hate him for needing his help, but she just can't. For her entire life, she's never known a man that did _anything _without expecting something in return, so it's no wonder she thinks the same about the one in front of her. It makes her feel terrible, because she knows deep down that he's just a good man. He's been nothing but good to her; he's helped her with her yard work, cooked her dinner, taken her out on a few unconventional, yet incredible dates… he's working his ass off to impress her, to make her feel special. What else can she ask for in a man?

With his arm wrapped around her, she feels safe. Nothing can hurt her here, he's proven it to her. It's almost a relief; someone is finally here to protect her. No matter how many times she tells herself that she doesn't need any protection, she can help herself, deep down, she knows that's not quite true. She needed help tonight. He was there. And now he's here, so close she can feel his warm breath tickle her skin. He's persistent; he's going to try again. Her gaze locks onto his deep sapphire irises; they're filled with fondness, warmth… and even just a twinge of fear. He's afraid she's going to pull away again; their precarious relationship can't handle another blow like that.

It's time for her demons to stop ruling her love life.

_He's Elliot. It's okay, he's not going to hurt me. He got hurt himself to protect me. _

Their lips meet. Everything else fades away as her eyes flutter closed; the only thing she feels is his lips on hers, soft, warm, inviting. Her body melds into his as his arms form a cocoon around her, a shield between her and the outside world. For that one, single moment, where his lips are on hers and his arms wrapped around her, everything is _right_.

He would wait the rest of his life for her if it meant he could kiss her just one more time. There are butterflies in his stomach, his heart is bursting, his fingertips even tingle. There's no doubt in his mind; this was definitely worth the wait.

She cups his stubbled chin with her hand as she simply breathes, catching her breath, trying to make sense of what just happened.

_You just kissed him. You enjoyed it. _

_You _really_ enjoyed it. _

His hand runs gently over her back as he smiles. Goosebumps run up her spine from his touch. "Mind if we get out of here? I can't stand hospitals."

She chuckles, nodding. "Yeah."

—-

Olivia pulls into her driveway, and instantly begins to feel anxious. At the hospital, she didn't have to think about what had happened, she could focus on getting Elliot treated. Now, there's nothing else to distract her. She'd let a man break into her home and nearly assault her.

Elliot must sense her anxiety, because he says, "Listen, I uh- I can stay with you, if you want. You know, just to make sure everything's okay."

"It's okay, you don't have to do that," Olivia says half-heartedly. She wants him to stay, but she knows she shouldn't. Jesus, what's wrong with her? She shouldn't feel like this, she should be able to fucking _sleep_ on her own… she feels like a child. "I'm a cop, I can take care of myself."

"I know," he says. "But you're also a person. There's nothing wrong with being a little nervous after a stranger breaks into your place."

Olivia almost resents him. How can he be so calm all the time? How can he get slashed by a criminal, need stitches, but not show a flicker of pain or fear? That's supposed to be _her_. She's the cop, she's the one that's supposed to protect, but it seems like she's the only one that needs protecting. She's the one that can't seem to shake off the fear.

_Of course he's not afraid, _says a voice in the back of her mind._ He's seen more than you can ever imagine. He's come face to face with terrorists and murderers, a home invader is nothing to him. _

Her silence tells him everything he needs to know. "I'll stick around. Okay?"

Finally, she surrenders, and nods silently. Elliot follows her into the house, watches her lock the door, and ambles into the living room behind her. He slips off his fleece, careful of his stitches. She looks him over for a moment, rumpled, hastily dressed just before rushing over to her place. His forest green shirt is only half tucked in, and while his pants are usually tucked crisply into his boots, tonight they hang loosely to the ground. He's not even wearing his boots; instead, a faded pair of half-tied sneakers cover his feet. He does a good job keeping a smile on his face, but her trained eye can see his exhaustion. His shoulders are slumped, hands dropped loosely at his sides. He's definitely ready to sleep.

"Let me get you a blanket," she says, disappearing down the hall. When she returns, he's leaning back comfortably on the couch. "Here."

"Thanks," Elliot answers, taking the blanket. "Gonna sleep okay?"

_Probably not. _Instead, she nods. "Yeah, I'll be alright. G'night."

With that, she makes her way into her bedroom, closes the door, and climbs back into bed.

—-

Tonight, the nightmares she usually expects never come. Olivia's not sure whether it's because she's entirely too exhausted to dream, or the Marine on her couch keeps them away (she definitely prefers the first thought; she's never been this needy for someone in her life), but either way, it's a welcomed change.

When she walks into the living room the next morning, Elliot's gone, and the blanket she gave him is folded perfectly on the end of the couch. She sighs, running her fingers through her hair. She isn't sure why she expected him to still be here, but she's disappointed he's gone.

The sounds of a hose outside draws her out of her thoughts. Eyebrows furrowing, she walks outside, and it's hard to keep the smile off of her face. "You know I can water my own garden, right?"

Elliot stands on her lawn, barefoot, wearing a pair of shorts and the same green t-shirt he wore earlier, still slightly rumpled and untucked. There's a hose in his hands, and he's watering the dry soil in front of her house. "Yeah," he says, and leaves it at that.

Her arms cross over her chest and her heart jumps. "So… why are you doing it?"

He shrugs, a slanted grin spreading across his face. "Because I want to."

"You gonna get in trouble for missing work today?" she asks.

"I haven't taken a day off in, like, five years," he says. "Now stop worrying about me. I'm here because I want to be, not because I think I have some obligation to."

"Sure about that?" Olivia sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, searching his eyes for a moment. She can't help but think he's doing this because he wants something from her. The thoughts from the previous night return, as well as a voice from her childhood, yelling the cliched statement, _"Men only want one thing, Olivia. Remember that." _Her mother had done a great job driving that point home. Lewis only proved Serena right.

If she was focusing on Elliot's face a bit more, she would notice the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Before she knows what's happening, Elliot's wrist flicks, and a cold burst of water drenches her. She gasps, staring at him incredulously. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"That's what you get for questioning my motives," he says as she blinks the water out of her eyelashes. She can sense the playfulness in his voice, but she knows he's serious.

"Oh, you're totally gonna get it, Stabler!"

With that, he drops the hose, and takes off. She sprints after him down the side yard. He fakes right, turns left. Easily launches himself over the chainlink fence into his yard, using one hand to grip the top bar as he uses his momentum to get his legs over, landing as delicate as a dancer on the other side. It takes Olivia a bit longer to get over, and she knows she'd never catch up with him on a normal day, but he's roaring with laughter, slowing him considerably. Finally, Olivia's arms wrap around his waist, and she brings him down, landing with a plop beside him. As his laughter dies, she straddles him. He doesn't seem to mind though, and his hands make their way to her hips.

It takes her a moment to fully realize the position they're in. He's laying back on the grass, making no move to try to get her off of him. In fact, he looks quite comfortable with a smile on his face. His hands burn through her clothes, sending a jolt of fear up her spine. She squashes it, though, an image of him, his back towards her, defending her bursting into her mind. _He saved you. He's not going to hurt you._

The image of him fiercely protecting her is replaced by one of them sitting together in the hospital, lips locked. In that moment, she'd felt things that she didn't realize she _could_ feel; more than anything, she wants that again. The safety, the warmth… it's drawing her back in.

_Should I…? Would it be okay…?_

It's a decision that's already made. She's leaning down before she knows what she's doing, and her lips are on his. He responds immediately, returning her kiss as he grips her waist a bit tighter. It's closemouthed and gentle, just enough for her without triggering any painful memories. She's not sure how, but there's no doubt in her mind that he's figured something has happened to her to make her so hesitant with him. That's the only reasoning she can think of that would explain his compliance; he's letting her control the kiss, giving her free reign to go as far as she wishes. It's comforting, to say the least. Olivia is the one that finally pulls back, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"For what?" he asks.

"You keep trying to show me the man you are," she explains. "I just haven't been watching."

He's silent for a long moment, staring up at her. Finally, he says, "Well, are you watching now?"

She nods. "Yeah. I think I am."

* * *

A/N: As always, review to get a sneak peak :)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	10. Shift

A/N: I know, I know, I've been gone forever. Forgive me. Here's the next chapter.

* * *

Elliot sits in a hallway, hands folded in his lap. He's still wearing his fatigues, having come straight from work. Thankfully, nothing crazy was on the schedule today, so they're still clean and crisp. Instead of heading straight home from Pendleton, he drove north to the D.A.'s office in Anaheim. A woman in a skirt and blazer steps out of the office across from him, "Mr. Stabler?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, standing and shaking her hand. "Ms. Novak, I'm guessing."

_Elliot dragged himself into his living room, slipped off his boots, and collapsed onto the couch. He was exhausted; every muscle in his body was screaming. He let out a long sigh, letting his eyes slide closed. _

_Not five minutes later, his phone began to ring. His eyes popped open, a frown forming on his face as he stood and picked it up off of the table. "Hello?" _

_"__Hi, Elliot Stabler?" _

_"__Yes?" _

_"__This is Casey Novak from the D.A.'s office. I'm calling in regards to the incident you were involved in at the residence of Olivia Benson." _

_Elliot's eyebrows furrowed as he leaned against the counter. "Okay. What about it?"_

_"__Are you may know, there are a series of charges being brought up on the perpetrator. I'd like to call you as a witness to the crime." _

_"__You mean testify?"_

_"__Yes, that's the idea." _

"Yes," Ms. Novak says. "But please, call me Casey."

Elliot follows the redhead through the doorway into the office. It's a decent size, lit by two lamps: one standalone in the corner, and the other on her desk. They give the room a pleasant, dimly-lit atmosphere. He sits across from Casey in a comfortable leather chair, instantly feeling out of place in his ruddy boots and combat fatigues. The young ADA makes no mention of it, though, getting right down to business. "So, I spoke with Olivia and she told me what happened. It sounds like you really saved the day."

He shrugs. "It was nothing, I'm just glad she wasn't hurt. Who was the guy, anyway?"

Casey reaches into her desk, takes out a photo, and sets it in front of Elliot. "His name is Jacob Ruiz. He's also wanted in connection with five other rapes and murders."

His gaze shoots back up to her as ice runs down his spine. "You mean, if I hadn't stopped him, he would've…"

"It's likely," Casey says gently. "The fingerprints that were taken during his processing matched those found at three of those crime scenes."

The image of her body, beaten and broken, invades his mind and won't fade. It feels like concrete is pouring into his stomach; it's growing impossible to keep his breathing even. If it hadn't been for a nightmare, one of his fucked up combat _nightmares… _she could have died one of the most horrible, gruesome deaths imaginable.

_I should have broken both his arms. _

He shoves the photo away from him, slumping back in his seat. When he speaks, the words stick in his dry throat. "Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

—-

Elliot takes off his cap as he walks into the courthouse, and pulls at the bottom of his green and khaki service uniform. It's the first time he's ever had to testify in court; Casey told him exactly what's going to happen, but he can't shake the nerves in the back of his mind. He was hoping that he'd never have to step foot in a courthouse.

Olivia is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest when he reaches the courtroom. She stands straight as soon as she sees his approach. Warmth rises in his chest; she looks amazing in the business suit she wears; it's classy but practical, and it fits her in all the right places without showing too much.

—-

Olivia's heart skips a beat when she sees Elliot walking towards her. His uniform is meticulously pressed, and every ribbon and medal is in its exact proper place. He wears the uniform extremely well; she's never seen him looking better.

"Hey," she greets. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course," he answers.

The bailiff comes to collect him in just a few minutes. Olivia slips back into the courtroom and sits down, eager and nervous all at the same time. He's sworn in, and sits down, back straight, hands folded in his lap.

Casey's cross-examination goes quite smoothly, as expected, but once the defense attorney, Malcolm Grey, steps up, things start to get dicey.

"How long have you been in the Marines, Sergeant?" he asks.

"Fifteen years, sir," Elliot answers.

"So it's safe to say you've been in a multitude of stressful situations."

"Yes, it's safe to say that."

"And I'd assume that it's also safe to say that most of your encounters over those last twelve years have been hostile. As in, men wishing to do harm to you and the people around you."

"I wouldn't say most," Elliot says, brows furrowing. _Where is he going with this? _"But a substantial amount, I suppose."

"I have military records here stating that you returned from your last deployment ended nearly two months ago. Where were you stationed?"

"Ramadi, Iraq."

"Isn't that one of the most troubled areas overseas?"

"Yes."

"So, to recap, you got home from a rough deployment only two short months ago. On edge, from the dangers of what you'd been doing overseas. And you burst into your neighbor's home, where apparently, she's being attacked. Who's to say that Mr. Ruiz wasn't having completely consensual relations with the alleged 'victim'?"

"I know what consensual sex is, and what was going on definitely was not that," Elliot says, his blood pressure beginning to rise. _Who the fuck does this guy think he is? _

"According to you, whose every encounter for almost a year was hostile," Grey says. "Did you find it completely necessary to break Mr. Ruiz's arm and put him into a chokehold?"

"I did what I had to do with both my and Mrs. Benson's lives in jeopardy. Your client had a knife on him, which he cut me with."

"Or maybe you got overzealous due to your past experiences. That could be entirely possible, couldn't it?"

"Absolutely not," Elliot says immediately. "I know the difference between a friendly encounter and a hostile one."

Grey nods, taking three short steps towards the jury and a long moment of silence before asking his next question. "Okay, then. Your career in the Marines is infantry, correct?"

"A branch of infantry, yes."

"And you've been in for twelve years."

"Objection," Casey calls, "The witness already answered this question. Will the defense move on?"

"I was just doing so." Grey folds his arms behind his back, a smirk forming on his face. "Gunnery Sergeant, do you enjoy your job?"

Elliot's brow furrows. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm inclined to ask the same question, Counselor," the judge says. "What is the relevance of this line of questioning?"

"I'm just getting to it, Your Honor."

"Well, do so quickly or move on."

"Once again, do you enjoy your job?" Grey asks, turning back to Elliot.

It still takes Elliot a long moment to answer the question. "Yes."

"And your job is to kill?"

This time, there's an even longer pause. This was not what he signed up for when he agreed to testify. What does his career have to do with anything? He's praying that Casey will object once again, but there's nothing but silence and the subtle rustles of the audience in the courtroom. Elliot takes another moment to formulate a response, and finally says, "In my line of work, there have been instances where it has been necessary, yes."

"So, by default, you enjoy killing."

"Objection, argumentative!"

It doesn't stop Grey. "You're a bloodthirsty animal!"

"Objection!" Casey shouts, standing. The whole room bursts out into murmurs, and the judge needs to bang the gavel several times.

"Sustained!" he calls finally. "That was out of line, Mr. Grey. I will not tolerate servicemen who risk their lives every day being disrespected so severely in my courtroom."

"I apologize, Your Honor," Grey says half heartedly. "No further questions."

Elliot's hands are gripping the fabric of his trousers so hard that his knuckles are white. It takes nearly all of his self control to not jump to his feet; instead, he remains as still as a statue.

"Redirect, Your Honor?" Casey asks, approaching the stand where Elliot sits. "Gunnery Sergeant Stabler, can you describe once again for the jury what you saw when you entered Detective Benson's residence?"

"The window was smashed open. Detective Benson was laying on the floor, with the defendant laying over her. Her service weapon was on the floor under the table."

"Was she saying anything?"

"Yes. She was yelling for help and begging for him to stop."

"Yelling for help and begging," Casey repeats. "That doesn't sound consensual to me. No further questions."

"You may step down, Gunnery Sergeant."

Elliot takes his cap, stands, and exits the courtroom in quick, long strides.

"Elliot!" Her voice stops him. When he turns, she's jogging after him.

"Yeah?" he answers, thumbing the brim of his cap with one hand as he waits for her to reach him. Without warning, she envelopes him in a tight embrace. Surprised by the sudden, and frankly unexpected, display of affection, he stands frozen for a moment.

"I'm sorry. That lawyer had no business saying that to you."

His free hand loops around her waist and his chin drops into the groove between her shoulder and neck. Warmth spreads through his body; he'll never get used to how good it feels just to hold her in his arms. "I'd do it all over again just to hold you like this."

He lifts his head, and she ducks away to hide the blush that's forming on her cheeks. It doesn't quite have the intended result; he sees it clear as day, and a smile forms on his face. The sting of the lawyer's words are slowly fading. He knows it was just a ploy to create reasonable doubt for the jury, but when it was said, it felt like a punch in the gut.

"I don't think that," she whispers, as if reading his mind.

"I know," he says, giving her a small smile. "Hey, I'm starving. Let's go out to lunch."

She checks her watch, hesitates for a moment, then says, "Alright, I can take an hour before I go back to work." Their strides match as they walk our of the courthouse. He slips his cap back onto his head, adjusts it meticulously, and offers her his arm. He's not quite sure where the gesture comes from; she makes him do a lot of things that he doesn't quite understand. He's afraid she'll reject the gesture, but after a moment, she loops hers through his, and they walk down the step together. Elliot has to admit, it feels great.

Three people come up to Elliot before they make it to his car. She stands back and just observes him, amazed by how he handles it. He smiles, shakes their hands, and when they thank him, returns it with his own thanks. When a little boy walks up with his mother, Elliot squats in front of him, explains his job enthusiastically, and gives him a high five.

When they get in the car, she simply looks at him, amazement in her eyes. He glances at her, a small smile on his face. "What?"

"You were great back there. Taking the time to talk to those people."

He shrugs, turning back towards the road. "It's a beautiful day outside. I know this Mexican food place that's around, what do you think?"

A smile slides across Olivia's face. He always lets the compliments roll right over his shoulders. "Sounds good."

When they reach the restaurant, the waitress guides them to a table outside under the covered patio. After pulling the chair out for her, Elliot sits down himself, and sets his cap down on the end of the table.

"So, what's good here?" she asks.

He points out a few items on the menu before a waiter appears in front of them. Elliot orders a Coke, she decides on an iced tea, and they're left alone once again.

"Thank you," Olivia says. "For testifying, I mean. I know that defense attorney gave you a lot of shit."

"It wasn't bad. Not the first time I've been called a bloodthirsty animal," he says, flipping through the pages on his menu. He then murmurs, "That's kind of mild, actually."

She frowns for a moment. "Really?"

Elliot raises his gaze slowly, and shrugs. "A buddy of mine was sitting in an airport terminal heading to his duty station from leave, this woman walked up to him, spit on him and called him a baby killer."

"Jesus," she murmurs. She finds that unbelievable. Agree with the war or not, people just like Elliot are over there in hell on Earth right now, fighting and dying. How could anyone ever disrespect someone like that?

The waiter appears once again to take their orders, and their food arrives a few minutes later, a quesadilla for her and a burrito with extra cheese, beans and rice for him.

"Let me cook you dinner tonight," Olivia says. "As a thank you."

"I told you, you don't have to thank me."

"I know. But just do me a favor, okay? Humor me."

A grin spreads across Elliot's face. He sits back in his chair, taking a moment to loosen his tie a fraction. Finally, he says, "I can't refuse an opportunity to spend more time with you. What time?"

"Seven?" Olivia says, a smile of her own tugging at her lips.

"Seven it is."

They finish their meals, and Olivia has to return to work. Elliot arrives home around two thirty, changes into a pair of shorts, and goes out to mow the lawn.

—-

Dinner is delicious. Olivia prepares a couple of steaks with mushrooms and onions, which she's learned is Elliot's favorite, and he washes the dishes, much to her chagrin. Afterwards, they're not quite ready to say goodbye, so she pops in a DVD and they sit together. As it turns out, though, they're both more tired than they anticipated. Halfway through, he starts rustling beside her. His arm had already made its way around her shoulders earlier in the night, so when he pulls her gently against his chest, it's smooth and easy. She ends up with her back resting against his chest, his arm around her belly and the rest of her body between his legs.

She's frozen for a moment, surprise and even a little bit of fear washing over her.

"Is this okay?" His voice is a whisper in her ear. Elliot's voice. As the fear starts to dissipate, she realizes how comfortable it is in his arms. He's a shield around her, holding her, protecting her. It's okay. Here, with him, it's okay.

She lets him hold her. His head falls against the back cushions, while hers rests into the crook of his neck.

"I hate you, you know," she murmurs. Her fingers dance lightly over his forearm subconsciously.

"Why?" he rumbles.

"You make me feel vulnerable," Olivia admits. "I hate feeling like that."

His guard is still down, thanks to being only half awake, so he doesn't even think before he answers. "You're not the only one with commitment issues, Liv. For twelve years I've tried my damnedest not to fall for a woman."

If she'd been more lucid, she would have taken that as an insult. She's growing more and more tired, though, so she asks, "What does that mean?"

Elliot hesitates for a long moment before answering. "Means that you're not the only one that's been hurt."

His eyes are closed. His thumb brushes across her hip, and even though it's over the material of her shirt, it still sends a pleasant shiver down her spine. The statement finally sinks in, and she doesn't like the meaning. She's not the only one that's damaged… for some reason unknown to her, the thought angers her. Her hurt, that's one thing. But him… he's one of the last people that would ever deserve that.

Through the haze, an epiphany strikes her. This is how he must feel, if they feel the same about each other. The thought that he's been hurt on the same level as her is nearly unbearable.

"I'm sorry," she says sincerely.

"'S okay," he answers. "Way I see it, we have two options."

"Hm?"

"We could continue to be miserable and alone for the rest of out lives. Or… we could see where this goes."

"See where it goes?"

"Mhm," he rumbles. "I like spending time with you."

"You'll end up hating me."

"Impossible."

His hand is drawing light circles on her stomach now. _We're cuddling. He wants to be with me. _It's almost too much to handle. How could someone like him want to be with her? "I don't want to be miserable anymore," she whispers.

"Me neither," he says. "I'm happy when I'm with you."

He's good to her. It's such a foreign concept to her, having someone, especially a man, that will be there for her without question when she needs it. "Me, too."

She turns towards him. He's looking quite comfortable, the side of his head resting against the back cushion, and she wants nothing more in that moment than to kiss him. She doesn't have to, though, because he inmates it, guiding her lips to his with a hand on the back of her neck.

Once again, he lets her control it. She's not sure how he's so aware of her needs; maybe it's from their first encounter. Maybe this is just the way he is. Their lips remain locked together for several long, languid moments until she breaks away. His hand, still on the back of her neck, guides her head to rest against his chest. She hears his heartbeat, steady and strong, lulling her closer to sleep. His breathing evens out under her… the idea of drifting off in his safe, warm arms is becoming more appealing by the second. Just for a little while, she tells herself. A little while, and then she'll go into her bed.

It's nearing four o'clock when Olivia finally awakens. Elliot's arm is still wrapped securely around her waist, his breathing slow and even.

"El," she whispers.

"I'm awake," he says, eyes fluttering open.

"Don't you have to get ready for work soon?"

"Mhm," he rumbles. "Just enjoying the moment for a little while."

"Didn't mean to sleep for so long," she says, torn between getting up to head into her bedroom and remaining in the cocoon his arms have formed around her.

Elliot's never not wanted to go to work more. When his internal alarm clock woke him just a few minutes ago, he was sure that Olivia would absolutely freak when she woke up, but she's still in her arms, chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Comfortable?" he asks quietly as his thumb makes slow circles on her side.

"Mhm," she says, burying her face further into the crook of his neck. Her brain is telling her to get up and put some distance between them, but her heart is saying the exact opposite. She wants nothing more than to remain just like this for as long as possible.

She's half asleep when he begins rustling below her. Before she knows what's happening, he's lifted her bridal style in his arms, and is heading down the hall.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"I have to get ready for work," he says, "and you should get some more sleep in a real bed."

"You know, I don't believe you've actually killed anyone," she murmurs as he sets her down and covers her with the blanket. "You're too sweet."

She regrets the words almost as soon as they come out of her mouth, but Elliot just chuckles. "That's what you think. In reality, I'm a highly trained killer."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"You don't want to see it." He presses a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, Liv."

"Bye, El."

The last thing she heads is his footsteps fading away before she succumbs back to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Review for a sneak peak.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	11. Moving

A/N: Thanks for the reviews from last chapter, guys :) So happy you all liked it and continue to support the story. Here's the next chapter.

* * *

"Elliot?" He's immediately drawn out of his thoughts. Major Cabrera, the executive officer of the first recon battalion, sits across from him, brows furrowed. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I've got a lot on my mind," he says. "What were you saying?"

"I was asking what you thought about CQB training."

"Right," Elliot says. He runs a hand over his head, thinking for a moment. "Yes, that would definitely be beneficial. I'd also say more breaching and clearing."

"Good thinking. That'll be needed if we deploy back to Iraq," Cabrera says, scribbling something down on his clipboard. "That's about it."

Elliot walks out of the office, squinting in the bright California sun beats down on him. Replacing his cap, he makes his way across the base towards his truck. There's nothing on the schedule for the afternoon, and it's only one o'clock. He throws his cap onto the passenger seat next to him, turns the ignition over, and heads out.

—-

Olivia's head is pounding. She's just returned from a pretty severe domestic violence call, and is now sitting at her desk with a pile of paperwork in front of her. Raul sits at his desk as well, focused intently on his papers. Overall, it's been a shit day.

Raul's eyes flicker up, and a smile spreads across his face. "I think someone's here to see you."

"Huh?"

She turns, and can't help but smile. Elliot's walking through the door to the bullpen, dressed in his fatigues with a brown paper bag in his hand.

"So, you finally took mercy on the poor guy?" Raul asks, grinning.

"How did you even know what he looks like?"

"There's only so many Marines that walk through here."

Olivia stands as Elliot reaches her. "Hey. What are you doing here, shouldn't you be at work?"

He reaches for her, and plants a kiss on her cheek. "I'm having a pretty slow day. Figured I'd come by with some lunch. Unless you've eaten already?"

"No, no. I still have to take my lunch." Olivia turns to Raul, "By the way, this is my partner, Raul. Raul, this is Elliot."

The detective stands, and holds his hand out for Elliot to shake. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Yeah, likewise," Elliot says.

Olivia guides him up into the break room, he drops his cap onto the table and opens the bag, pulling out a few sandwiches. "I wasn't sure what you were in the mood for, so I got a couple options here."

Olivia chooses the turkey sandwich, while Elliot chows down on roast beef. "So, how's your day going? Bust any deadbeats?"

"We had a call earlier this morning, but that's about it," she says, sipping at a bottle of water. "What about you, jump out of any helicopters?"

"No, considering we don't jump out of helicopters," he teases, bumping her shoulder with his. "I had a meeting with the major in the unit, then came over here."

"About what?" she asks.

"Consulting on future training."

Olivia's brow furrows. "I didn't know you did that."

Elliot shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Yeah, from time to time. It falls under my duties as the company gunny."

Olivia places her hand under her chin, looking him over for a moment. "You know I have no idea what you're talking about?"

Elliot chuckles, wiping his mouth with a napkin. When he looks at Olivia, his sparkling blue eyes are completely captivating. It's not the first time she's noticed this, but it is the first time she's allowed herself to continue to look.

"That's alright. It's part of my job as an operations chief."

"Your job description covers a lot, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but it's alright. Keeps me busy," Elliot says. "But enough of that. How are you? How's the trial going?"

Olivia takes a deep breath. The question came from a good place, but she can't help but hate him for asking. Honestly, she most definitely would rather her case go unreported, the five other women who were attacked are plenty to put Ruiz away for good, but there's no way she can go back now.

He obviously senses her turmoil, and reaches for her hand. "Hey. Don't be ashamed."

Anger shoots up her spine. She rips her hand from his, scooting far away from him, intent on putting as much space between them as possible. She can't stand being coddled by him, being taken care of by him right now. She can do that herself. "Listen, I don't need you to come to my rescue. I'm a grown woman, I can take care of myself."

His eyes soften, increasing her anger tenfold. Who the fuck does he think she is? "I know that."

"Then why do you find it necessary to try and be my knight in shining armor? I'm not a poor little girl that needs to be swept off of her feet."

"I'm not trying to do that, Olivia," he says. "I care about you, and that's what people who care about each other do. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way, that wasn't my intention."

She hates him. He's so _understanding_, just so fucking levelheaded, it makes her want to scream. How the _fuck_ can he do this? Here she is, so angry just because he cares about her, and he's not even phased by it. He just _apologized_ for _her_ being unreasonable.

Elliot stands, and his arm wraps around waist, pulling her in close. She wants to pull away at first, but he's so intoxicating with his warmth, rock solid body against her, and his scent that nearly drives her crazy. It's impossible to stay mad at him, and the longer he holds her, the more she realizes her anger is completely unjustified. Elliot's right, he just cares about her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers finally. "I-I'm just…"

He pulls away from her for a moment, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of her eye. "I know."

"How?" she whispers, staring up at him. Water is pooling in her eyes, and she's not quite sure why.

"I just do," he says, shrugging. "What matters is that I'm here for you, Liv. Whatever's going on, whatever you need to talk about, I'm right here. Now, c'mon, we've still got two half-eaten sandwiches to finish."

When he finishes his sandwich, he tosses the wrapper into the trash can in the corner, and leans back in the chair with a deep sigh. She follows suit, finishing her lunch and throwing away the garbage. Elliot stands, hitches up his trousers, and states that he should probably get back to base and let her get to work. She walks with him to the building's exit.

"See you later," he says, kissing her cheek. Olivia's eyes remained locked on his retreating form for a moment, then she heads back upstairs. His visit was a more than welcome distraction, but now she has work to do.

—-

"We've got him nailed."

Casey sits across from Olivia at their table in the small cafe down the street from the precinct. Shortly after Elliot left, Olivia received a call from the attorney, asking if they could meet for coffee.

"And I still haven't testified," Olivia says. A flicker of hope surfaces, but she knows it's unrealistic. No matter what, she's going to have to tell the court what Ruiz tried to do to her. It's going to be embarrassing, and depending on how cruel the defense counselor is, painful. After what Malcolm Grey pulled with Elliot, she's convinced that he won't be kind. _The past I left New York to get away from might come up here no matter what I do. _

Olivia's not sure what she'll do if that happens. Especially if her next door neighbor is present. Thus far into the trial, he's only been in attendance once, not including the day he had to testify. It was mostly for moral support, which Olivia is grateful for. She can't ask him not to be there when she testifies, but she's definitely not ready to take the risk of the unpleasantness reaching him.

"That's just going to put the nail in his coffin," Casey says. There's an excited smile on her face. She's definitely eager to put this one away, considering it's such an easy win for her.

"Right."

"What's the matter? I thought you'd be thrilled. That dirtbag deserves to be put away."

"He does, I am," she says, stirring her coffee slowly.

"You just don't want to testify."

Olivia's gaze rises, and she shrugs. "Yeah, you're right. I don't."

"Trust me, it's going to be okay. You just have to tell them what happened."

It's nearly impossible to shake off her feelings of inadequacy; she's supposed to be the one protecting people, but so far, she's the only one that's needed protecting.

Elliot's voice comes into her mind. _"It's not your fault. Scumbag got the jump on you." _

She wishes he could be there with her now; his arms are so warm and comforting, and she feels safe with him. As much as she hates to admit it, he's becoming her rock. Somehow, she knows that when he's around, everything will be okay. He'll do whatever it takes to protect her. Is she wrong to feel like this? Maybe, or maybe not.

"Olivia?"

"Sorry," Olivia says, running a hand through her hair. "I just… have a lot on my mind right now."

"I understand," Casey answers. "After everything that happened in New York…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Her heart starts pounding in her chest. Sweat is forming on her forehead. _How the hell does she know anything about that? Does that mean other people out here know? Will I ever be able to escape this? _"How do you know anything about that?"

Casey lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring anything up…"

"Just… tell me how you know anything about that."

"Alex Cabot, the ADA that tried your case is a close friend of mine. I was in New York with her during the trial."

Everything is spiraling out of control. Olivia shoves her coffee away from her as nausea hits her full force. She feels like she's going to be sick. _If she knows, who else knows? It was all over the news, how can I be so naive to believe that I would get a fresh start here? _

"Does Elliot know?" Casey asks quietly.

Olivia shakes her head. "No one here does. At least… that's what I thought."

"As long as that's what you want, no one else is gonna find out, Olivia," Casey says. "At least, not from me."

"Thanks," she says half-heartedly, "but if you know… it's only a question of who else does, or how long it will take."

_Especially Elliot. I wouldn't be able to look at him in the eye if he knew._

"Elliot is a great guy, and he definitely cares about you. I know that's what you're worried about. He wouldn't have risked his life or gone through testifying in court for you if he didn't," Casey says. "I haven't known him for as long as you have, but I don't think he's going to care about what happened to you in the past."

_She's probably right. He does care about me a lot, that wouldn't change because I was attacked… would it?_

Whatever the outcome may be, she's not ready to divulge that to him just yet. Maybe not for a long time. "I'm not will to risk that, Casey," she says quietly, staring into her cup of coffee. At least… not yet."

Casey nods. "Just remember what might happen if you wait too long."

Olivia knows that if he finds out form the wrong source, it's going to be trouble. He's going to ask why she didn't tell him first. There's no doubt about that. Will he be angry enough to end whatever they have going on? If she tells him, will he be so disgusted with her that he never wants to see her again? She has no idea. Hopefully, she won't have to figure that out for a long time, maybe even never.

Key word being hopefully.

—-

The next weekend is Memorial Day. Olivia is set to testify on the Tuesday after the holiday, and her anxiety is only growing. Her only solace is the man living next door to her, who has invited her over for a campfire for the holiday. When she knocks on his door, it opens in only a few short seconds.

"Happy Memorial Day," Olivia says, giving Elliot a hug as he opens the door for her.

"Thanks," he says, "but it's not all that happy."

He's wearing a partially fitted black t-shirt with the Eagle, Globe and Anchor on the front breast, his unit's logo spread across the back, and a pair of jeans. Out back, there are two chairs set in front of the fire pit. A pile of freshly chopped wood is stacked on the side.

It takes mere minutes for Elliot to get a roaring fire going, and when the task is complete, he sits beside her silently. He's not relaxed, like he usually is. He's pensive as he leans forward in his chair, picking at his fingernails.

"Elliot?" Olivia asks quietly. Twelve years is a long time, she thinks. She can't imagine how many friends he's lost.

"Sorry I'm not a bucket of sunshine today," he mumbles. "You know, I just…"

"It's okay," she says. "I understand."

They sit in a long moment of silence. The sun is starting to go down, and the ambience of the night is unfolding. When Elliot finally speaks, it's twilight.

"I got back from a deployment a couple of months before you moved in," he says quietly, eyes glued to the fire pit. They both know that Olivia knows this, he's trying to work up to what he wants to tell her, so she says nothing. Reflections of the flames dance across his face and arms, his tattoo, making him look almost dangerous. "I'm not gonna get into it, but, uh… it was a pretty bad one."

A loud _pop_ goes off in the distance. Elliot nearly jumps out of his skin. Immediately after, embarrassment floods onto his face. She's never seen him quite this vulnerable… it scares her a bit. "Goddamn fireworks," he mumbles. Shaking it off, he takes a deep breath and takes out a small notebook from his pocket. "Well, anyway… I started doing this thing on my third deployment. I was an NCO at the time, and whenever one of the Marines were killed, or injured… I felt responsible for them. I was supposed to make sure they all came home."

"Elliot…" she begins. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could."

He nods. "I know, but… knowing that didn't help. So I started writing down all their names. All the ones that were killed or went missing. I still do it today. There are a bunch this year from that deployment I told you about." The notebook is clutched tightly in his hand. He opens it, and takes a deep breath. "Pete Henderson. Lance Corporal. He was killed by an IED."

Elliot rips out a page from the notebook, where Pete's name is written in his narrow scrawl, and folds it gently. He holds it in his hand for a long moment, then gently drops it into the fire.

"Until we meet again, brother. Semper Fi." Elliot waits a moment before he reads the name on the next page. "Dwayne Rodriguez. Private, on his first deployment with Recon. He was caught in sniper fire, I tried to get out to him to save him, but he died in my arms."

—-

This is a ritual he never thought he would share with anyone. His heart's heavy in his chest, he's worried about feeling so vulnerable in front of her; he's never showed her this side of him before. He always puts on the happy face, or the brave face. He tries like hell to impress her. Today, though, that's all gone. He can't think to worry about her seeing him in such a delicate place.

The flames bite his fingertips as he drops the piece of paper with Dwayne's name into the pit.

Another _pop_ almost sends him to his feet. Brutus sits beside him, giving his arm a lick. He hates fireworks. Rationally, he knows he shouldn't, but the loud _pop_s can only conjure up one thing in his mind.

There are six more names to throw into the fire. Elliot sucks in a deep breath.

"Want a beer?" he asks quietly. He can feel Olivia's eyes on him, but he keeps his gaze is glued to the flames. "I'll go get some."

"Did you always know you wanted to be a Marine?" she asks when he returns.

"Not really," he answers. "When I was a little kid, I wanted to be an architect."

"An architect?" she says. "Really?"

He can't help but smile a bit as he picks at the label on his beer bottle. "Yup. I had this set of blocks I used all the time. Made all sorts of towers and bridges and all kinds of stuff."

"So, what happened?" she asks.

Elliot shrugs. "Too much school. My father lost his job and his pension from the NYPD, there was no way my parents would be able to pay for my college."

"Oh," she says, taking a sip of beer. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I can't see myself sitting behind a desk all day, anyway, I'd probably go crazy."

Olivia chuckles. "Jumping out of planes and doing underwater dives in the ocean are better?"

"Definitely."

—-

"So, you've never questioned… staying in?" Olivia asks softly. She sure as hell would have. After seeing his schedule: waking up at three or four every morning, going through grueling physical exercises, and dealing with as much loss as he has? She probably wouldn't be able to last more than one enlistment, and that's if she could even make it through one in the first place.

"Of course I have," he admits. "But any service member who tells you different is lying. There are always hard times, that's practically in the job description. It's just about learning to get through them."

Olivia nods. She can't take her eyes off of him. It's dark now, and his face is lit by the orange glow of the fire. He continues to amaze her every day; his courage, his commitment, they're second to none.

Elliot sets his bear in the cupholder of his chair, then returns to his notebook. By the time all of the names have been dropped into the flames, his shoulders are stiff, he's leaning forward in his chair and there's water in his eyes.

Olivia slides her chair directly next to his, and wraps her arms around him. She wants to tell him everything is okay… but honestly, she has no idea if they are or not.

She may not know it, but her arm is anchoring him. He sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly, and gives a forced chuckle. "Sorry."

"About what?"

"I'm sure you don't want to hear about my fucked up past." None of his past relationships/flings have. The medals, uniforms, parades, sure, but beyond that, it was always beyond the realm of discussion. No woman wanted to hear about the brutal nature of his past deployments.

"You can talk to me." _He's just as screwed up as I am. _

His arm slips around her shoulders and he presses a light kiss to her temple. They sit like that for a long while, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. A cool breeze blows over Olivia, but Elliot is warm against her. She inhales deeply, his scent permeating through her nostrils. He smells of wood, freshly cut grass and something else entirely his own. It almost makes her feel drowsy.

A couple hours and two beers each later, the fire dies down to a few charred, slow-burning logs.

"'S getting late," Elliot murmurs. He's sitting with his hands in his lap, her head resting on his shoulder and his cheek on hers.

"I know." The last thing she wants to do is get up and leave this comfort. It is getting late though, and she should go home.

Finally, she pulls herself to her feet. He gets up with her, walks her to their front yards, and pulls her to him. Their embrace quickly becomes more when he pulls back for a moment, just long enough to drop his forehead against hers. He wants her to go the rest of the way, and she obliges him. The kiss starts off gentle, like all of the previous ones, but quickly turns more passionate. His arm snakes around her waist, pulling her against his chest, and hers loop around his neck subconsciously.

It's the first time he's taken control of a kiss, and it's amazing. He's controlling, but not overtly so, always giving her room to turn the tables if she wishes.

When they finally separate, Elliot holds his forehead to hers for a moment before finally stepping back. "Goodnight, Liv."

"Night, El," she answers, giving him one last once over before she heads for her front door.

* * *

A/N: You know the deal. Thanks for reading, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts. Sneak peaks will go around :)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	12. Crumbling

A/N: Thanks, everyone, for the feedback on last chapter. Hopefully you all enjoy this one, as well.

* * *

There's only one other time Olivia has been this nervous to testify. Ruiz sits at his table next to Malcolm Grey, giving her the evil eye, and another familiar face stands in the back next to the door. Elliot, dressed in slacks and a polo, arms crossed over his chest. He slipped into the courtroom just as she was sworn in. Their eyes meet, and he gives her a wink.

Casey is up first. "Detective Benson, can you tell me what happened on the morning of April 22?"

"I was sleeping," she begins, "and around three o'clock, a loud noise woke me up. Concerned that someone had broken in, I got my service weapon and began to search the house. I was knocked out from behind."

"And what happened when you woke up?"

"The defendant was on top of me." Olivia takes a deep breath, "I attempted to defend myself, but he began punching me in the stomach and face. I yelled for help, and... that's when Mr. Stabler came in. He ripped Mr. Ruiz off of me, and defended himself when Mr. Ruiz pulled a knife on him."

"Had you ever been in contact with Mr. Ruiz before this occasion?"

"No, he was a complete stranger."

"No further questions."

Grey stands, and approaches the stand slowly. Olivia's heart begins to race.

"Ms. Benson," he begins, "you transferred to the Anaheim Police Department from New York City, did you not?"

"That's correct."

"Why?"

"Objection, Your Honor," Casey says immediately, standing. "Relevance?"

"Objection sustained," the judge answers. "Move on. Mr. Grey.

Grey nods, pacing a few steps to her left. "New York public records state that you were involved with a case against William Lewis. In what capacity was that?"

Her heart drops into the pit of her stomach. Her worst nightmare is coming true; there's the question, the one that she wants to escape the most. Elliot still stands in the back, looking straight into her eyes, confusion and curiosity on his face. She wants to tell him to leave, to get out so he doesn't have to hear this. She's having a hard time breathing; everything is crumbling down around her.

"Miss Benson."

She wants to stand up and scream. _It's Detective, you prick! _

"I was called by the prosecution to testify against Mr. Lewis in the case," she says softly, lowering her gaze. It's not a lie. It's just not the full truth. She's not naive enough to believe that will sate Grey, but maybe Casey will call another objection and end this hell.

"And why was that? Were you the arresting officer on the case?" He's patronizing her. Olivia wants nothing more than to stand up and smack the smug look off of his face._ How is dredging up my past going to help his case? _

"No."

"Then why were you called to testify?"

—-

Elliot shifts from his left foot to his right as he watches Olivia on the stand. She's looking very uncomfortable, like she wants nothing more than to just not answer the question. His mind is starting to race.

_What happened back in New York?_ Her behavior throughout their relationship is slowly starting to make more and more sense.

"Your Honor, please instruct the witness to answer the question."

It's easy to tell how much Olivia doesn't want to do that. She's looking straight at him, her eyes filled with... is that fear?

That look sends a knife through Elliot's chest. He wants to walk to the front of the courtroom and beat Grey senseless, that prick knows he's making her squirm, he's enjoying it. His arms tighten their fold on his chest.

"Detective Benson," the judge says, "please answer the question."

Her eyes go from the judge's right back to his. He'd give anything to know what she's thinking right now. _Why won't she answer?_

"Objection, Your Honor," Casey says, but it falls on deaf ears. There's no way out of this one.

Olivia opens her mouth to speak, and Elliot nearly jumps as his phone begins buzzing in his pocket. He's intent on letting it go to voicemail until he sees Major Cabrera written across the screen.

_Fuck._ He can't ignore this call. Olivia is still frozen, mouth open, ready to answer the dreaded question. With a heavy sigh, he gives her one final look and slips out of the courtroom.

The call lasts a few minutes, but it drags him away from the courthouse and back to base. He spends the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the mess that's been created in his absence, and by the time he arrives home, Olivia's car is already in the driveway.

He heads right over and knocks on her door. She's wearing a pair of sweatpants when she opens it. "Hi," she greets quietly.

"Hi," he answers, clasping his hands behind his back. He's not sure why, but his nerves are coming on full force. "I just came over to... you didn't look too happy last time I saw you. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she says, but the look on her face is showing anything but.

He nods, dropping his gaze to the welcome mat between them. The questions are burning his lips. "So... how did it go?"

Olivia shifts on her feet, suddenly finding something very interesting about the door knob. "Fine."

Elliot steps in closer, and tries to pull her into his arms, but she backs away, wrapping her own tightly around her. The movement sends a knife through his gut, but he drops his hands back to his sides, locking his gaze onto the mat once again.

"Liv..." The single word falls from his lips, but he has trouble getting the next ones out. "Who's William Lewis?"

He looks up at her just in time to see terror explode into her irises. It nearly sends him back pedaling; it's terrifying, heartbreaking and infuriating all at the same time. His heart clenches in his chest.

_What in the world happened to you? _

"No one," she whispers.

He shakes his head, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'm not buying that."

She's silent. Her eyes won't raise to his at all anymore.

"Liv, you can talk to me about anything," he says. "I'm not gonna judge you."

"I can't do this right now." Finally, she looks at him. "I really have to go, Elliot."

He knows he has no right to feel betrayed, but that's exactly how he feels. Even after everything he's shared with her, she still doesn't trust him. Finally, he nods, turns, and makes his way across the yard, defeated.

Olivia sighs shakily as she closes the door. There's already tears forming in her eyes; everything is royally screwing up. She saw the hurt in Elliot's eyes before he turned away from her. This is growing tiring; she's exhausted of playing this game, hiding everything from him, scared of losing him.

_"__Who's William Lewis?" _

_The animal that changed my life forever. _

_"__Detective Benson, please answer the question," the judge says._

_"__I testified against William Lewis," Olivia begins. She hates herself for how tiny her voice sounds. "After he assaulted me." _

She swipes at the tear that makes its way down her face as she watches Elliot disappear through his front door. _You're going to lose him. He's only going to put up with this for so long. _

_If he finds out, you'll lose him anyway. It's just a matter of time. _

_"__What was the capacity of the assault?" _

_"__Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?" _

_Casey's trying everything she can to get off the subject, but nothing is working. _

_Unfortunately, Grey is prepared for exactly that. "Your Honor, this calls the alleged victim's reliability into question. The jury should know any and all details regarding assault charges in the past." _

_The judge remains silent for a long moment before finally answering. "Objection overruled, Ms. Novak. Mr. Grey, continue." _

_"__Once again, Ms. Benson. What was the capacity of the assault?" _

_It's growing harder and harder to keep the tears at bay. She hates herself for being so weak. "Mr. Lewis… kidnapped me, tied me up and attempted to…" the lump in her throat kills the words before she can even speak them. She takes a deep breath, and says, "he attempted to rape me." _

Olivia collapses against the door, the tears quickly making their way down her face. She doesn't even know what's happened until she's sitting on the floor, knees drawn to her chest. The sobs that she's tried so hard to hold back explode from her chest. There's no way she'll ever be able to escape this. Her fresh start has evaporated, a mist of a dream that her bare hands have no hope of catching. The court knows. Casey knows. Elliot will soon know. She may as well move right back to New York. There was never any chance that she could escape her past.

—

It's driving him crazy. Elliot sips at the cup of coffee in front of him, head spinning with the possibilities. What the hell happened to her? Was she attacked? Was she… He needs to stop that thought before he makes himself sick. He swallows down the bile that's risen in his throat, disgusted, and takes another sip of coffee just as he hears his name called from behind him.

"Elliot." Casey approaches from behind, and sits down in the booth across from him. "What's up?"

"Hey," he greets. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice."

"No problem," the attorney says just as a waitress in a white t-shirt and black apron approaches. She orders a coffee, and then asks, "So, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." Elliot pauses shortly as Olivia's terrified eyes pop back up into the forefront of his mind. Out of everything that haunts his dreams, that gaze has to be one of the worst. It's one of the most heartbreaking things he's ever seen. _What could have happened to make her so afraid? _"Well… I don't know, to be honest."

"What's going on, then?"

Elliot bites his lip for a moment, then finally just asks. "How did the rest of Olivia's testimony go? I wanted to stay, but…"

A knowing look passes over Casey's face. She considers her words carefully before answering. "Fine. Closing arguments are next week, and hopefully they'll come back with a verdict quick. It's pretty open and shut, Ruiz should end up in prison for a long time."

"Good." Elliot nods, dropping his gaze into the warm black liquid that fills his mug. He readjusts himself in his seat, hands fiddling with themselves under the table as he attempts to think of the right words. "Do… you know about this guy Grey mentioned? Lewis?"

Casey's silent for a long moment, which is all the confirmation that Elliot needs. It's obvious that she knows something, it's just a question of what. "You need to talk to Olivia about that."

"I tried. C'mon, Casey, I just want to make sure she's okay." His eyes soften. "I want to be there for her."

"I know," Casey answers. "And honestly, Elliot, I wish I could tell you, but I gave Olivia my confidence. It's up to her."

She's right, he knows she is. It's just hard to accept she would so actively try to hide something this big from him; he thought she trusted him.

Casey clearly sees his turmoil, and says, "It's hard for her to talk about, especially with you."

Hurt and anger pangs through him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

_She doesn't trust me? She doesn't think I'd understand? _

"It's not an insult," she says quickly. "It might not make any sense to you, but… just trust me, Elliot."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Elliot says, looking up at Casey. He shakes his head, finishes off his drink, and sets the mug back down on the table. "I don't mean to bring you into any of this. "

"I get it," Casey says. "Like I said, closing arguments are next week, if you can make it. The best thing you can do is just make sure she knows you're there."

Elliot nods as he reaches for his wallet to pay for his coffee. "Thanks for meeting me, at least. I appreciate it."

The attorney smiles, nodding as well. "My pleasure."

Elliot goes straight back home once he leaves the cafe. He changes, sits in bed, and brings his laptop onto his lap, intent on at least checking his email. When he starts typing, though, those letters are furthest from what appears in the search bar. His hands are shaking, and his head is spinning. W-I-L-L-I-A-M. He pauses, staring at the computer screen.

_Should I really be doing this? _

L...E...W...I...S...

His finger hovers over the 'enter' key. _Just hit it_, he thinks. This will give him the answer he's been agonizing over.

_"__It's hard for her to talk about, especially with you."_

_"__You're going to have to ask her."_

_I can't breach her trust like this. _If he does this, he'll break her trust forever… that's something that he just can't live with. He collapses against the headboard with a sigh, sets his laptop onto the nightstand, and falls back against the pillows.

_"New York public records state that you were involved with a case against William Lewis. In what capacity was that?_

This is going to be torture. He has everything he needs right at his fingertips to answer his questions, but he can't bring himself to do it.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for reading and hope you enjoyed. You know the drill, that little box below is waiting for your comments ;)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	13. Return

A/N: Hello, everyone. Thanks for the feedback from last chapter :) I hope you all enjoy this one.

* * *

In Elliot's job, distraction is probably one of the worst things he could feel. It can get him killed, or even worse, one of the men around him killed. So the fact that it's happening more and more often to him lately both scares and angers him. However, once again, his mind is drawn to Olivia instead of the task at hand, conducting maritime raids from small zodiac boats. Summer upon them, but the air blowing off the ocean still gives him a chill through all the equipment he wears. He sits at the front of his boat, and is responsible for nearly the entire mission, making his distraction even more of a problem. It's only training, but failure is still unacceptable.

He grips his weapon tighter in his hands. _You can worry about her later. Focus on the mission now. _It's easier said than done. Though it's been several days since their encounter, the terror he found Olivia's eyes still haunts him. No one that beautiful should ever have that look in her eyes.

The boat stops next to their target. Almost mechanically, he gives orders to the men and watches each one climb up a ladder. He and a sergeant, Dunley, provide security at the top of the ladder. He holds his rifle up, eyes glued in front of him. Everything is still; he hasn't seen movement since the rest of the men split up. The ship is large, but he can still feel the gentle bob that comes along with being on the water. Back and forth. To and from. Providing stability where there is none. Lulling him into a state of calm when there should only be chaos. No man is in danger here today, but it's only a matter of time; soon they will be in the raging inferno once again.

By the time he's sent on another deployment, he might know what happened to Olivia. Or, he might not be speaking with her anymore. That thought scares him the most, they've known each other for such a short period of time, but she's already so near to his heart. That's why he feels so hurt to see her in pain.

_Focus. _

The raid is taking far longer than it should. If they're not back on the boat and moving soon, there's going to be hell. Elliot motions for to Dunley, and they start moving towards the stern of the ship. Dudley opens the hatch, and Elliot slips inside, clearing it quickly.

It's empty, and so is the one they clear after that. In the third room, they dispatch a sergeant acting as an insurgent. In the room after, there are two. In no time, all of the men are back at the ladder, ready to get out of there. Elliot was the first one on the ship, and he'll be the last one off, never putting the men in more danger than they have to be in, both in training and real life situations.

Soon, he's sitting back on the boat, motoring off back to base. It just gives him more time to think.

_You're hiding things from her, too. You can't judge. _

_The difference is that I've asked her about it. If she asked me, I would tell her everything. _

_Would you? _

His hand slides over his uniform front, damp with salt water that's kicking up from their boat, as pain from wounds that have long since healed reemerges. He has no right to judge her, unless he unloads all of his demons as well. And, though he'd love to prove himself wrong, he knows she'd run for the hills if he did that. Not to mention, there's pain that he'd rather keep buried.

That's when the epiphany strikes him. Olivia's pain is just like his own; she wants to keep it buried at all costs, under all circumstances. Olivia is who she is. Her past may be affecting her still, it may play a part in her interactions with him, but obviously not too much, because she hasn't broke it off with him yet. That's the one thing that he takes comfort in; whatever happened, she's at least trying to put it behind her. Who is he to drag up memories that she clearly wants to forget?

Eventually, if what's between them goes further, he'll have to know. Their relationship won't be able to grow or remain strong if they continue to hide their demons. But for now, everything is so new and fresh and amazing that he'd hate to ruin it because he can't mind his business. It's completely out of his character to let such a huge thing go, but she makes him do a lot of things he wouldn't normally do.

—-

Olivia just can't seem to get out of her funk. It's been four days since her testimony, four days since she completely broke Elliot's trust. At least, that's what she believes. They haven't spoken in those four days; she's barely even seen him around. If she's honest with herself, she misses him dearly. She misses being in his arms, she misses the way he can make her laugh with seemingly no effort, and she misses how his lips feel on hers. She wants him back, she just can't bring herself to do what she has to do.

Saturday morning, Olivia goes to a kickboxing class. About an hour after she arrived home, there's a loud knock on her door. Still clad in a pair of yoga pants and tank top, she opens it. Elliot stands in front of her, in a Marine Corps t-shirt, jeans, baseball cap and sunglasses. He's also wearing his combat boots. She wonders silently how many items of clothing he has from the Marines, because more often than not, when she sees him he's proudly displaying their logo.

"Hey," she greets.

"Hey," he answers. "Get dressed. I've got something to do with you."

"What?"

"I'll meet you out here," he says. "Make sure you wear long pants and closed toe shoes."

Her mind is whirring as she walks towards the bedroom. _I thought he was mad. Where's he taking me? Is everything okay between us now? _

Olivia takes an extra minute to get dressed. She pulls on her favorite pair of jeans, the ones that fit her in all the right places, and a flowing scoop neck shirt.

"You gonna tell me what we're doing now?" she asks as Elliot pulls out of her driveway.

"You'll see," he says simply. "Don't worry, I think you'll enjoy it."

They ride in silence for a long while, the music from the radio the only sound. Finally, she can't take it anymore. She reaches over to turn the radio off before speaking. "Listen, El…"

He turns to glance at her for a brief moment before waving her off. "It's okay. We can talk about it later."

A few minutes after they get onto the highway, she becomes very unfamiliar with the area they're driving through. After about a half hour, Elliot pulls off the highway and down a two lane road. Up ahead, there's a gate and a sign that reads 'Camp Pendleton'.

"El?" she asks, "What are we doing here?"

He shrugs, reaching for his wallet. A Marine in uniform approaches the truck, and Elliot hands him his military ID. Not ten minutes later, they're on a dirt road with desert and rolling hills all around.

"You coming out here to bury me?" she asks.

"Nah," he says, "I got a place further south for that."

She chuckles, turning to look out the window. There's nothing around, just sand and sprinkles of burnt shrubbery.

"Most of everything is near the main entrance," Elliot says. "We're coming in from the north, where most of the ranges are, where we do different trainings like HALO and HAHO jumps. Right now it's just a barren desert, most of those things happen during the week."

Olivia's hypnotized as she stares out the window. She imagines him, all geared up in his uniform, making a jump with his fellow Marines, shooting at human-shaped targets… this is his office. This is what he comes to work in every day.

They're on a paved road now, and buildings are coming up quickly.

"That's SOI," Elliot says, pointing out a big building on their left. "Sorry, School of Infantry. If you're in an infantry MOS, that's where you go after boot camp to learn your job. It's fun, you get to shoot all sorts of cool weapons."

A smile spreads across Olivia's face. The twinkle in his eye is hard to miss as he speaks about his job. "So, this is where you came?"

"No, I went to Camp Geiger in North Carolina," Elliot says. "Basically, if you live east of the Mississippi, you go to Camp Geiger for SOI, and if you're west, you come here."

"Then how come you're here now?"

"This is where the first Recon battalion is stationed. That's the battalion I belong to."

Olivia nods, turning back towards the window.

They drive for a good twenty minutes, passing buildings and housing complexes.

"Wow, I can't believe how much stuff is here," Olivia says.

"Oh, yeah. The entire base is pretty much self-sustaining. You've got restaurants, grocery stores, post office, a couple of dentists, hairdressers… you'd never have to leave if you didn't want to," Elliot explains. "We're almost to the main gate. Up here we have a lot more buildings and restaurants… along with the ranges."

"I thought we passed those."

When he looks at her, there's a grin spread across his face. "You didn't think there'd only be those few on a Marine Corps base, did you?"

Further south, they see an elementary school, more restaurants, a medical center, and a few pools. Once again, Olivia's amazed by how many things they can fit into this base. Elliot's right; you'd never have to leave this place if you didn't want to. Eventually, they make their way back to the more deserted part of the base.

Elliot pulls off the road, turns the ignition off, and walks to the back of the truck. To Olivia's left, there's a concrete platform with a roof overhead. Further out in the field, there are black human-shaped metal targets. Elliot walks up to her, a long, black case slung over his shoulder. He takes her hand, and guides her to the platform. "This is the public range on base. I made a call and got it for us for the afternoon."

He sets the bag down, squats to open it, and takes out the weapon inside. It's an assault rifle, with a folding stock and long barrel. He holds it by the pistol grip, the butt of the stock resting firmly in the crook of his arm as the barrel points towards the sky. "This is my AR-15."

Olivia raises an eyebrow. "Aren't those illegal in California?"

"As a matter of fact, they are," Elliot says as he loads a magazine and pulls back the hammer. "But when I registered it in 1999, it was perfectly legal. I was grandfathered in. So don't worry, you're not going to have to arrest me."

"We'll see about that."

Elliot laughs as he leans down and takes two sets of earplugs and a pair of yellow-tinted sunglasses out of the front compartment of the bag. "Here, put these on."

"I'm not going to _shoot_ that, am I?" she asks incredulously. The only gun she's ever shot is her Glock, and the weapon resting in Elliot's arm is a completely different animal.

"Of course." Elliot puts on his ear protection, and turns towards the targets. "Don't worry, I'll show you everything you need to know."

He takes a careful stance, legs shoulder-length apart, back to her, gun pointed still as a statue. The muzzle flashes, and even through her earplugs, she hears the pang of metal on metal as the rounds hit the target. After that, he's off, sending more rounds downrange.

When he's finished, he takes a deep breath, steps back, and turns towards her, returning the weapon to its position pointing towards the sky. There's a big grin on his face. "It's very relaxing. Here, you try."

He makes it look so easy, she thinks. Seeing him behind the muzzle of a gun is like seeing a fish in water. Just looking at that weapon makes her nervous, but she trusts him. "Alright."

He looks like a kid on Christmas; Olivia can't help but smile. "Great. C'mere."

She walks closer to him, and takes the gun carefully when he hands it out to her. Elliot steps behind her as she attempts to emulate the stance he had moments ago. The first thing she notices about the gun is its weight; it's much heavier than she thought it would be.

"That's it," he murmurs in her ear, carefully positioning her hands. Goosebumps run up her spine as his chest brushes against her back. "Perfect. Now just squeeze off a round."

The recoil is almost nonexistent. It's nothing like shooting her Glock, that's for sure, but there's something about it. She's enjoying it.

The rifle is set on a three round burst. Before she knows it, the magazine is empty and Elliot's taking it from her. He takes another magazine from his belt, pops it in, and takes his own turn at the target.

They go through two magazines each in no time. It's some of the most fun she's ever had; she's amazed by how he somehow knows how to make her happy and show her a good time.

"Fun, huh?" he asks, clearing the weapon and setting it back into the case. It's nearing four o'clock.

"Yeah," she says. "A little nerve wrecking at first."

Elliot takes a quick look around before he pulls her into his arms. Her cheek comes to rest on his chest. "You never have to worry when you're with me," he whispers in her ear, then pulls back to look her in the eye. "Trust me, Olivia. Please."

Olivia sighs, "Elliot..."

Resignation flashes across his face and he nods. "I know. I just… had to try one more time."

She wants to speak, but he places his thumb over her lips, silencing her.

"I'm just happy that you came into my life," he says softly. "If there's something you don't want me to know… I respect that. It's okay."

Olivia can't help the tears that form in her eyes. This has been happening far too often lightly; she's sick of crying, but in this moment, she can't help it. She'd been so worried about losing this man, so worried that her secrets would drive him away… but now, here he is, telling her that everything's okay. The only thing she can feel in this moment is relief. Relief, and gratitude. She's never known someone like him.

Elliot sweeps her up in his arms, holding her tightly to him. "El…" she whispers, squeezing him in the strongest hug she's given anyone. "Thank you."

His lips are on hers in a millisecond, pouring every emotion he feels into the kiss. She returns it gladly.

Finally, they break apart, and Elliot brushes her hair behind her shoulder. A warm smile spreads across his face. "C'mon, let's get something to eat."

He wraps his arm around her shoulder as they walk back towards the truck, and she knows. Everything is going to be okay.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading. Once again, I hope you enjoyed. If so, and even if you didn't, leave a review and let me know what you liked, didn't like and want to see more of :) Review and get a sneak peak, and I promise this one will come earlier and be longer than the last one.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	14. Precipice

A/N: Well, hello, there, everyone. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Olivia sits alone in the courtroom, awaiting the verdict for Jacob Ruiz. Her heart's pounding in her chest; she can't help but wish Elliot was sitting next to her. She needs his silent comfort now more than ever.

Casey turns towards her, and smiles reassuringly. She's told Olivia a million times that this is an open and shut case, that there's almost no chance Ruiz will get off. She can't get the thought that he will anyway out of her mind, though.

The doors at the back of the courtroom open, and a relieved smile comes across her face. There he is… the man she's been waiting for. He's in uniform, and there's a stoic look on his face as he approaches her. As soon as he sits down, his hand reaches out and grasps hers tightly.

"Thank you for coming," she whispers in his ear.

"I wouldn't miss it," he answers, making sure to give her a quick kiss on the cheek as he pulls away.

With him there, she feels secure. At the front of the courtroom, the dialogue she's seen and heard thousands of times plays out. She tunes out until those faithful words are spoken: "In the matter of the People of the State of California vs. Jacob Ruiz, on five counts of murder in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

The foreman stands. "We find the defendant guilty."

"On five counts of rape in the first degree, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

"On one count of attempted rape, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

Elliot squeezes her hand tightly as she breathes a sigh of relief and falls against him. His arm wraps tightly around her, and he rubs her shoulder comfortingly for a moment. "It's okay now."

It takes her a moment to stand. When she does, he grips her hand in his as they approach the front of the courtroom.

"Congratulations," Elliot says to Casey.

"Thanks," Casey says, shuffling papers before putting them away into a black leather case. "I'm surprised you came back after what Malcolm said to you, Elliot."

Elliot shrugs simply. "You know, some people are just ignorant." He makes sure to say it loud enough for Grey to hear. Judging by the dirty look he receives from the next table over, it's successful. Grey slams his briefcase shut with a scowl on his face.

"Or just rude," Olivia adds.

Elliot chuckles, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand. "Well, you just put away a wanted serial killer. How about a drink to celebrate?"

Casey contemplates for a moment before answering. "Sure."

"Liv?" Elliot asks turning to her. "What do you think?"

"I could go for a drink," the detective answers.

They go to a pub not far from the courthouse, find three seats at the bar and all order beers.

"I'm surprised you two don't already know each other," Elliot says. He sits on the far end, with Olivia next to him and Casey next to her. "Seeing as your offices work so closely together."

"Olivia's in family crimes, while I work more with assaults, rapes, things like that," Casey says. "We've seen each other in passing, right, Olivia?"

"Yeah, once or twice," Olivia answers.

Elliot nods, and takes a long sip of his beer. "Hm. Makes sense, I guess."

They drink a beer more each before going their separate ways. Casey gets into her car, then disappears into the night, leaving Elliot and Olivia standing together. Like the gentleman he is, he walks her to her car, and opens the door for her.

"I'm down there," he says, nodding towards the spot he parked his truck. "See you at home."

"Thank you again for coming today," she says, looking up at him from the driver's seat. "You… don't know what it means to me."

A smile slides across his face as he leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "You needed someone. I promise, Liv… anytime you need someone, I'll be here."

"That's a big promise," she murmurs. The next words don't come out of her mouth, but they still float between the two. _Are you sure you can keep it? _

"Yeah," he says. "It might be, but I'm pretty determined."

"Why?"

He squats in front of her, and runs his hand through her hand gently through the locks resting on her shoulder. The soft smile hasn't left his face. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I just know… you've got a place in my heart now. If you haven't noticed, I'm very protective of the people I care about."

"I got that," she breathes. He's so close to her now, one arm resting on the open door of the car and the other driving her mad as it changes route from her hair, onto her face. His thumb runs over her cheekbone lightly. It's coarse and battered, but she's never felt anything softer.

"Good."

He leans forward then, and she grips his collar, guiding him to her lips. He needs no guidance, though, and in no more than a moment, they're connected once more.

The thought that they're lip locked in the middle of public where anyone can see doesn't even cross her mind. His hand has moved from the door to her thigh, gripping lightly as he nips at her bottom lip lightly. Olivia pulls him closer, her heart pinging in her chest. He always does this to her, he always sends strange emotions through her gut. She's never felt anything like it.

When he pulls away, disappointment fills her. He doesn't go too far, though, resting his forehead against hers. "As much as I'd love to continue this," he breathes, the hand on her face slowly moving down her shoulder, "a parking lot probably isn't the best location."

Olivia nods. "You're probably right."

Elliot gives her one last peck on the cheek before standing. "I'll see you back home, then."

"See you."

He closes the door for her, and she watches him disappear beyond the light of the street lamp towards his truck.

They don't see each other again that night for more than a moment. As their cars pull into their respective driveways, Elliot wishes Olivia a good night's sleep and then disappears into the house. Disappointment grips her; she'd like to spend more time with him, but it's getting late and she knows he'll be trying to get some sleep soon for his perpetually early mornings. Instead, she curls up with a good book on the couch for a few hours, then heads to bed herself.

—-

"Morning, Olivia," Raul greets as he places a cup of coffee on her desk.

"Morning," she answers, only half of her concentration on the man that sits across from her. She's in the middle of finishing a report from the case they had closed the day before Ruiz's verdict.

"Listen, um… can I talk to you about something?" Raul asks.

"Yeah, what is it?" Olivia sets down her pen, and looks up at him.

"Why didn't you tell me about Ruiz?"

Olivia's heart skips a beat. She takes a deep breath, and answers him with a question of her own. "How did you find out about that?"

"Friends," Raul says simply.

"What _friends_?"

"Guys still on the beat," Raul says. "A friend of the uni that was on the scene that night."

She's angry, but knows that nothing really can be done. There's no way she can prevent this information from getting out… she'll consider it a win in any case, because at least they don't know about Lewis. "I told you I was going to court."

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me you were attacked," Raul says. "You don't think I would want to know that?"

"I didn't realize you were so nosey," Olivia doesn't mean to make the statement sound so snappy, but it just comes out like that. "It had nothing to do with work."

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?"

"I dunno," Raul says finally. "I just supposed we were friends. I thought maybe you would tell me if something happened to you."

Olivia sighs. She can see the hurt in Raul's eyes; she's far too good at pushing people away. Raul's just trying to be a good friend and a good partner, making sure she's okay. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. It didn't even really cross my mind, I just… handled it."

"You don't have to handle things alone, you know," Raul says. "Friends talk to each other. We're friends, right?"

She gives him a smile. "Yeah, we're friends. I'm sorry, I'll try to be more… _open._"

Raul nods. "That's good to hear."

As Olivia turns back towards her paperwork, it's the furthest thing from her mind. What the hell is happening to her? Opening up to Elliot is one thing… but now Raul? He may say they're friends now, but will he be singing the same tune when he believes she can't watch his back? He has a wife and a little girl to go home to… if he doesn't believe in her…

Olivia shakes those thoughts away. _Why do I care if he doesn't want me as a partner? _

She knows the answer, she just doesn't want to admit it. Raul has grown on her. They work well together. She gets along with him. He isn't just her friend, aside from Elliot and Casey, he's really the only one she talks to about things other than work. Not _too _many things, but enough. She'd be sad to see him go.

That afternoon, she and Raul go to lunch together. She promises herself that she'll try not to push people away anymore. There are plenty of good people around her, people that, for some reason unknown to her, treat her well here. She's not going to fight that fact anymore.

—-

When Elliot gets home from work, he changes out of his uniform and decides to take a long run before dinner. The past few days have been pretty easy on training, and he's starting to itch for the more physical part of his job. Just as he closes his front door, MP3 player in hand, Olivia pulls into the driveway next door.

"Hey, El," she greets, getting out of her car. "What are you up to?"

"About to head out on a run," he answers, approaching her. The next words come out of his mouth without a thought. "Would you like to join me?"

"Sure," she answers. "Let me get changed and I'll be right out."

Elliot stretches a bit as he waits, and smiles when she returns dressed in black leggings and a v-neck. "Alright, where are we going?"

"You up for a five-miler?" he asks.

"I am if you are."

Elliot grins. "That's the spirit. C'mon."

They start off at a slow jog, Olivia matching Elliot's strides, the only sounds between them the snapping of sneakers on pavement.

"I'm starting to believe you don't do any of this stuff at your job," Olivia says. "Either that, or you're just a masochist."

"I have more responsibilities than just physical training," he answers. "Part of that's up to the individual. How was work?"

"Alright," she answers, and pauses before adding, "Raul found out about what happened."

Elliot is silent for a long moment. He picks up the pace a bit, and finds Olivia right beside him still. Finally, he says, "Does that bother you?"

"I told you I don't like feeling vulnerable," she says quietly. "People knowing that about me… makes me feel vulnerable."

She glances at him, but he's staring at the road in front of them, arms pumping as he takes long, smooth strides. Finally, he says, "You shouldn't feel like that."

"Why not?"

He wants to stop and sweep her up into his arms. "Because you're strong. Anyone who knows you should know that."

More slapping on the pavement. Elliot picks up the pace once again and Olivia's stride matches his. They run in silence for about three miles.

"So, what happened with Raul?" Elliot asks finally.

"Nothing." Olivia says. "Well… I'm trying to be more open."

"Good. That mean you're gonna spill all your secrets now?"

"You wish, Stabler."

Elliot chuckles lightly. "That's alright, I like the challenge."

She's starting to lose her breath; their pace is at the point just under a full out sprint, and she can't help but notice that he's barely broken a sweat. She hates him for a moment; how can be so, impossibly fit?  
"Losing your breath?" he asks, glancing at her with a smirk on his face.

"Nope," she answers, though her last breath comes out in a harsh puff. "Why, are _you_ feeling okay?"

"Never better," he says. They're about half a mile from home now, so he slows his pace considerably. Like always, their matching stride doesn't skip a beat. Before she even knows what's happening, the ground is no longer below her. Elliot's thrown her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, and he's carrying her down the street now, his pace having slowed only slightly.

"Elliot! What the hell are you doing?!"

"Don't worry, I've got you," he says, chuckling.

"Put me down, dammit!"

They're nearing home now. He has no intention of putting her down; they both know that. She's putting on the annoyed face, but inside, her heart is racing. When they reach their properties, Elliot drops her lightly onto the grass, and falls next to her. He's laughing, and there's a twinkle in his eyes. She can no longer help herself; she starts laughing, too, collapsing against him.

"Jerk."

"You like it," he says, arm wrapping around her waist.

"What makes you think that?" Olivia asks.

"You're still here." His lips meet her forehead, and she looks up at him, meeting his gaze. Her heart skips a beat as she sees his smile. It's intoxicating; there's nothing she wants to look at more.

"Yeah, I'm still here," she breathes.

Elliot lays back, pulling her along with him. They end up sprawled across the grass, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. "I hope it stays that way."

She raises her head, and looks down at him silently for a moment. Her voice comes out in a whisper. "Me, too."

"Good." The grin on his face only widens. He leans up, and presses a kiss to her lips before sitting up. "C'mon."

He pulls her to her feet, wipes the grass off of his shorts, and they walks towards the house. "I'm starving. What do you say, want to go grab something to eat?"

"Sure," she says, smiling as he wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. They're nearly to the door when a dark grey Jeep Cherokee pulls into the driveway. She looks at him. "You expecting company?"

There's a look of confusion on his face. "No."

They wait as the car door opens, and a man steps out. He's in his early thirties, wearing a green United States Army service uniform. There's a tan beret resting on his head.

"Hey, jarhead!"

A grin breaks out across Elliot's face as he approaches the man. "Hey, ya scumbag, what the hell are you doing here?"

Olivia watches, confused, as the two men meet in a manly hug.

"Who's this lovely lady?" the man asks, finally catching a glimpse of Olivia, who stands with her arms crossed.

"Olivia Benson," Elliot says. "Liv, this is Murph."

"Nice to meet you," Murph says, reaching out to shake Olivia's hand. She takes a good look at him; he's a little smaller than Elliot, but not by much, with green eyes and a light complexion. "Stabler here can't shut up about you."

"You better watch yourself, Staff Sergeant." Elliot shoves Murph playfully. "Just 'cause you're in uniform, doesn't mean I'm not gonna kick your ass. Have some respect for a superior officer."

"Superior officer? You mean superior jackass?" Murph cracks. "I'd like to see you try, jarhead."

"I'll beat ya down every day of the week."

"I can see you two are close," Olivia says sarcastically, eyebrow raised.

Elliot slaps Murph on the shoulder as he turns towards Olivia. "We've been best friends since we were kids. I used to go over his place when my dad was giving me a hard time. If he let me leave, that is."

"Yeah, I saved his ass more than once."

"And you don't let me forget it. What are you doing down here, anyway, aren't you stationed up at Lewis-McChord?"

"Yeah, but they shipped me down here for some training. So now you're stuck with me."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Elliot grumbles, giving him a shove. "Olivia and I are about to go grab something to eat, want to join us?"

"Sure, I'll tag along. Would you mind if I get out of this uniform?"

"Be my guest. You know where the bathroom is," Elliot says, gesturing towards his front door. Murph disappears inside, and Elliot turns towards Olivia, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her a bit closer. His lips meet her temple in a quick kiss. "You don't mind an old friend coming along, do you?"

"Of course not," she answers. "I'm going to go get changed, though, so just come ring the bell when you guys are ready."

"Sounds good." He gives her one final peck before they separate, heading towards their respective front doors.

* * *

A/N: I know, I know, to the people that I sent a sneak peak to, I kind of gave you a bait and switch on that one. Honestly, I lost the entire document for this story when my hard drive crashed, so I just kind of spit out something. That scene is coming next chapter, though, so I hope you can forgive me. I wanted to finish out this Jacob Ruiz storyline first, and introduce another character. I also realized I've been neglecting Raul, so I wanted to give him a little bit of love.

Anyway, next chapter is the big one, so you're not going to want to miss it. Review for a glimpse of what I'm talking about ;)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	15. Expose

A/N: As my followers on Twitter know, I was agonizing over the wait to release this chapter. So, here you go, extra early, and amazingly long. Enjoy.

* * *

Elliot's thumb runs lightly over Olivia's shoulder, and a shiver runs down her spine. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to his gentle touch on her skin.

Murph sits across from her, asking the waitress about which exact vegetables come with his meal.

"Don't mind him," Elliot says. "He's pickier than a toddler when it comes to what he eats."

"Hey!" Murph says indignantly as he crumples up a napkin and hurls it at his friend. "Y'know, some people aren't blessed with a crazy metabolism and the ability to eat whatever they damn well please."

Elliot chuckles, taking a gulp of his water. "Yeah, your diet keeps you from eating broccoli? Like I said, a toddler."

"Alright, fine," he grumbles. "I don't like that disgusting, mushy green shit in my food. You're the one that doesn't like cilantro."

Elliot frowns as he makes a face. "No, I don't. It tastes like detergent!"

"You live in California, and you don't like one of the main ingredients they put in their tacos. _That's_ weird."

"At least I don't need to tell the waitress to take it out. Jesus, I've never seen a grown man take so long to order a piece of steak and some vegetables."

"Alright, boys. You're both weird, now cut it out," Olivia says. Since the moment she knocked on Elliot's door, ready to go get dinner, they've done nothing but tease each other mercilessly. First it was Chevrolet versus Jeep, then it was Washington versus California, even Army versus Marines, cursing at each other constantly. She's heard friends tease each other, Hell, she and Elliot do it sometimes, but this is getting ridiculous.

"You're lucky you've got your girl here to protect you, Stabler," Murph says.

"Can it, before I take you out back and teach you some manners," Elliot answers.

"I'll take you _both _out back."

Both Elliot and Murph laugh.

"Hey, you should keep this one around, buddy. I kind of like her," Murph says, leaning forward and setting his chin on his palm. "Where ya from, Olivia? You can't be a native Californian."

"Manhattan," Olivia answers.

"You didn't tell me we all grew up neighbors. Then again, you were a little busy going on about how beautiful she is. Gotta agree with you on that one."

Olivia doesn't miss how Elliot's arm tightens a bit around her as she thanks him.

"So, what are you doing down here again? You know, besides being a pain in my ass," Elliot says.

"They set me up at Pendleton for some training," Murph says. "I'll be down here for a couple of months before I go back up to Lewis-McChord."

"Murph is in the 75th Rangers," Elliot explains, turning his gaze towards Olivia. "Basically me, except in the Army and not nearly as badass."

"Yeah, we'll see about that one. I could take you in a second."

"I'd like to see you try. Why do you think you come to _my _base for more training?"

There's a shit-eating grin on Elliot's face, and Olivia has to admit, even she would be pissed to be on Murph's end of it. God, the man next to her could be infuriating sometimes… but it's just another reason she loves his company. He's proud of what he is, and he's going to brag about it. She doesn't blame him.

Surprisingly, the soldier has no answer to that. He sits at the other end of the table and sulks until the food arrives. She's ordered salmon with a baked potato, Elliot digs into his plate of short ribs and risotto, and Murph nudges at the vegetables on his plate with his fork suspiciously.

"Is your salmon okay?" Elliot asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he takes a look at her.

"Huh?"

"You haven't eaten much," he observes. "Is it okay? Want me to call the waitress over?"

"No, no. I was just…" Just watching them. Pinching herself, wondering how she ended up with the man next to her, who takes the time to worry about even the quality of the meal she's ordered, and his friend, who takes every opportunity to patronize him, but still so obviously caring like a brother. How could she have been so lucky?

"Just…?" Elliot repeats.

Olivia shakes her head. "Never mind. The salmon is great."

He looks at her for a moment before shrugging, and returning to his meal. Before he can dig his fork into another piece of rib, she snags it herself, and pops it into her mouth.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asks, turning back to her.

"No, I'm just fine," she answers. "Hey, that's pretty good."

He says nothing, instead taking a big chunk of her fish.

Figuring that's fair, Olivia instead turns to Murph. "So, you're what? A staff sergeant?"

"That's right. I've been in for just a couple years less that Elliot."

"Murph decided to go get an education first," Elliot says. "And surprisingly, didn't go for OCS."

"I only got an associate's. The whole college thing wasn't really for me," Murph takes a big bite of steak. "Guns and helicopters are so much more fun."

"So, neither of you wanted to be officers?"

Murph snorts, nearly sending food back onto his plate. "Officers? No, we both work for a living."

Elliot adds, "Yeah, and neither of us like sitting behind a desk or filling out paperwork. Murph here can barely spell his own name, that's why he had to join the Army instead of the superior branch."

He immediately dodges the crumpled up napkin that's hurled at him. Olivia shakes her head_. Like children, the two of them. _It's so endearing that she can't be annoyed for long.

—-

Murph bids Elliot and Olivia goodbye soon after they pull back into Elliot's driveway, with the promise of giving Elliot a call again soon. Once again, detective and Marine are left alone, standing in front of his truck.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself," Elliot says. "Murph and I can get a little carried away, I know, but it's all in good fun."

"I noticed," Olivia answers. "The two of you. Jesus."

He chuckles, opening up his arms to invite her closer. She steps into his warmth without hesitation. "It's always been like that. Actually, I think it got even worse after he enlisted. The Marines and the Army… we've got a little rivalry."

Olivia smiles as her head rests against his shoulder. She's just the right height; just short enough to rest her head against his shoulder, but still look him in the face while they talk. His arm runs circles over her back.

"Want to come in for a while?" he asks quietly, not quite ready to let her go for the night. "I can pop a movie in for the two of us."

"No, that's alright," she answers. "I'm tired, I think I'm going to go in and hit the hay."

"Okay." Elliot tilts her chin upwards, and captures her lips in his sweetly. "Sweet dreams."

Olivia pats him on the shoulder and gives him a smile. "G'night, El."

His eyes follow her all the way back to her front door before he goes inside himself. He's tired as well; he might just follow her example and retire early tonight.

—-

The week that follows is busy. Elliot's regiment picks up dramatically, and he spends days on base conducting various trainings, leaving very little time for anything but sleep while he's home. Fortunately, or maybe not, Olivia doesn't have the time to notice his absence; there's a spike in her caseload, as well. She and Raul catch three domestic abuse cases in two days, leaving her wondering why the hell so many people are beating each other. Only one is husband on wife; the next is father on daughter, and the other is the mother abusing her child. She's growing tired of seeing the pain on children's faces, and on the sixth day, she hopes to distract herself with Elliot's presence.

He's not home. Olivia frowns, and checks her watch. _Seven-thirty. Usually he's home by now. _

It's then she realizes that she hasn't seen him around in several days. She misses him now… the feeling is growing stronger the longer she thinks about it. What a shitty time to get swamped with work.

Wallowing isn't going to help anything. Instead, she pulls out her phone, and sends a quick text. _Hey. Been busy, huh? _

He answers nearly fifteen minutes later, while she's sitting on the couch with a book. _Hey, you. Yeah, things have been pretty crazy these past few days. _

_I'm sorry to hear that. Was hoping I'd get to see you. _Once she sends the message, she regrets it. Is she being too clingy? It hasn't been more than a week, will he be annoyed by her?

Her phone beeps in response. _Yeah, me too. I'd like to cook you dinner again soon. _

Relief flows through her as a smile spreads across her face. She answers quickly. _Maybe I want to cook dinner for you. _

His answer is much faster this time. _I believe you cooked last time, Benson._

_Maybe I enjoy cooking for you, Stabler. Besides, you paid for dinner with Murph. _

They go back and forth for several minutes before he sends a message ending their fun and sending sharp disappointment through her. _Gotta go. Training exercise. _

Olivia stares at the phone for a few minutes before sending back, _Goodnight, El. _

Around five that morning, just as the sun is peaking above the horizon, her phone lights up from its position on her bedside table as she sleeps peacefully. _Sweet dreams, Liv._

Later on that week, Elliot finally gets a chance for a few days off. The first night off, though, he's violently awakened in the middle of the night, slick with a cold sweat and unable to catch his breath. He sits up, clutches his chest with one hand and reaches for the bedside table with the other. It takes him a moment of fumbling, but he finally turns the lamp on, bathing the room in pale yellow light.

He throws the blanket back, sits up, and drops his head into his hands. His heart is racing so quickly that his chest hurts. With a bark and a whine, Brutus trots up to him, and buries his nose into the crook of Elliot's neck.

"Good boy," the Marine whispers, wrapping his arm around his soft, furry neck. Brutus licks his cheek affectionately. "Yeah… you're a good boy, aren't you?"

_Bullets fly overhead. Elliot's back is pressed against a burnt out car, weapon clutched tightly in his arms. Though he's been in a few small skirmishes, this is his first 'real' firefight… and he's absolutely terrified._

Elliot tries to focus on the animal in front of him, but the flashbacks are hitting him one right after the other, making his shoulders shake, mind whir, and forcing him to even forget where the hell he is.

_A huge explosion throws him off of his feet like a rag doll. There's a painful ringing in his ears as everything goes black. _

_When he awakens, the pain is debilitating. He can't move; he can barely think of anything except the pulsing that encompasses every bone in his body. "D-Danny…" _

_Elliot doesn't hear his buddy's voice. Instead, he hears a sniffle and a whine. His head turns ever so slightly as a mass of black, brown and red crawls towards him. "B-Brutus…" _

Brutus gives him another lick, and whines again. Elliot pets him for a moment, slowly gaining his bearings back. His episode has drained what little energy he has left, but sleep is the furthest thing from his mind. Instead, he gets up, throws on a shirt, and makes his way out back. He doesn't even bother checking the time before he heads out; it's an ungodly hour, he knows that. It's chilly when he goes out, but he's not going to go back in to get a sweatshirt. The night is quiet... free of explosions and gunfire.

Elliot leans back in his chair, and takes a deep breath, letting his eyes drift closed. Muzzle flashes explode in front of his eyelids, forcing his eyes back open immediately. His heart is pounding in his chest.

"What are you doing up?"

The voice is instantly calming. His heart stops beating so violently as he looks towards the source. Olivia stands at the fence separating their backyards, dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt, hair pulled back in a messy bun. He stands, and approaches her. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Yeah, but I asked first. Are you home for a few days?"

"Thankfully." He wants to brush her first question off, but his thoughts are immediately drawn to the pain he felt when she did the same thing. He sighs, dropping his gaze. "I, uh… couldn't sleep."

"Nightmares?" Olivia asks quietly.

He looks up, and nods. "You, too?"

She responds with a nod of her own. A cool wind blows over the two of them, making Elliot shiver. He really should have grabbed a sweatshirt on his way out. "Want to come in?" He gives her a small smile. "Maybe the nightmares will cancel each other out."

Olivia returns the smile with an almost shy one of her own, but she seems to be hesitating. Elliot reaches for her hand, but remains silent, waiting for her response. He's not going to push her. This has to be her own decision.

Finally, she nods. "Yeah. Maybe they will."

Elliot unlocks the gate for her, and holds her hand as they walk back into the house through the back door. He's not sure where to take her; one part wants to take her to his bed, not to have sex yet, but to just draw her close, but the other part, the more logical part, thinks that she's not nearly ready for that. When they enter the dark living room, he turns to her, looking at her in the dark. "Liv, I…"

She interrupts him with a gentle peck on the lips. "I hope you're right about those nightmares."

He gives her a smile, squeezes her hand, and guides her down the hall to the bedroom. The covers are still thrown back, the lights off, but he can still see her as he reaches for the bottom of her sweatshirt. She consents silently before he pulls it up and over her head. Underneath, she's wearing a tank top. His thumb runs over her bare shoulder, sending goosebumps over her skin.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, and pretends not to see the blush that creeps across her face. He lays down beside her, and loops his arm around her waist gently. He lays on his back, and her on her side, nestled up close to him.

Her presence calms his heart and makes him quite drowsy. He has a good feeling that the nightmares won't come again.

"El?" she asks quietly.

"Hm?" he rumbles, eyes closing.

"Can I ask you something?"

"'Course."

There's a long moment of silence, making him wonder silently if he'd imagined their whole conversation. Finally, she speaks again, her voice so soft that he can barely hear it. "Are… you afraid of anything?"

His hand runs over her back lightly. She's soft, and warm against him, and honestly, he just wants to stay like this forever. He never knew laying here with this woman could feel so good. Her question rolls around in his mind. What would make her ask that? It's a strange question, and it throws him off for a moment.

"Yeah," he answers finally.

"What?"

There's a much longer pause this time. "I dunno," he says dismissively. "What are _you_ afraid of?"

"A lot," she admits quietly.

He's dying to know what they are, but asking would be hypocritical to say the least. So instead, he presses a kiss to her forehead, holds her closer, and closes his eyes. For now, he'll just enjoy her company.

—-

When Olivia awakens, her surroundings are unfamiliar. There's something heavy wrapped around her waist, and her pillow is harder than usual. She raises her head a bit, and a smile spreads across her face when she sees the man next to her. He's still sleeping peacefully, head lolled to the side towards her. She takes the moment to really look at him. Stubble covers his cheeks and there are bags under his eyes even though they've been sleeping for hours, no doubt from the busy week he's had. She's never noticed the small indent of a scar below the corner of his right eye, and she immediately wants to know how he got it.

Olivia stretches out, careful not to jostle him, and nestles herself back into his warmth. It feels good to be in his arms once more, and even better to wake up beside him. Elliot had been right; staying with her had kept the nightmares away, and it's been one of the best sleeps she's had. He's comfortable, warm, strong and even if he's asleep, she knows nothing is going to happen to her when he's around.

Olivia runs her fingertips down his face, neck, and over the t-shirt he wears. His breath hitches for a moment, then he opens his eyes, and smiles. "Good morning."

"Morning," she answers. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great. You?"

"Great."

He pulls her closer, and drops his forehead against hers. "You don't know how good it feels to wake up with you next to me."

Olivia smiles, running her finger over his forearm, which has come across her body as it props him up, slightly over her, but not intimidatingly so. God, she loves being near him, she loves hearing him speak to her, hold her, even simply look at her. She can't believe she almost let him go; there's definitely _something_ about him, something that draws them together.

"I think I do," she whispers.

Elliot smiles, and their lips meet. They kiss passionately, yet languidly. She loves doing this probably more than she loves anything. His lips can go from gentle and loving, hard and demanding, to slow and passionate on a moment's notice, and she knows that, no matter how he's kissing her, it can change on a dime.

Elliot's kissing her neck now. He presses feather light kisses under her jaw, over her collarbone, then back up, never more than a ghost over her skin. Her tank top is pooling under her breasts, and she can feel the thin material of his shirt on her skin. She knows where this is going, she'd be a fool not to, but she just can't stop it. It feels far too good.

_"__You like this? I know you want it." _

Suddenly, it's getting hard to differentiate the past from the present. She tries to focus on here and now; she's not in that room. She's here, laying on the bed with Elliot, and he's treating her like a god. Lewis never kissed her like this. He forced his tongue down her throat, bit her lip… Not Elliot. In Elliot's kiss, she senses all of his passion and his feelings for her. It makes tears form in her eyes.

Elliot drops his head to her chest, gently kissing and suckling on the base of her collarbone. His hand is sliding over her bare stomach now, higher and higher. Her breathing hitches, but he must think it's from his ministrations, because he doesn't stop. She can't take this anymore. It's nothing he's doing, he's being perfect, but it's just too painful.

"El, stop." She breathes.

It takes him a moment to understand what she's saying, and in that short time frame, her heart leaps into her throat. _He's not going to stop. He's going to take what he wants. _

His head lifts, and he looks her in the eyes. "What's wrong?" There's concern pooling in his deep orbs. "Did I do something?"

The tears in her eyes start to break away and stream down her face. "N-no. God, no. Y-you're being perfect."

"Then why are you crying?" He tries to scoot to the other end of the bed to put some distance between them, but her arms tighten around him, keeping him in place. She hates herself for thinking that he wouldn't stop; he's not William Lewis. He's Elliot Stabler, and Elliot Stabler is a complete and utter gentleman. He would never deliberately cause her pain. "Liv?" He whispers, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Please talk to me."

He adjusts so they're sitting next to each other against the headboard, with his left arm wrapped around her waist. She rests against him, seeking his comfort and his warmth. She's so tired of evading the truth, but… "I-It's hard to talk about, El."

He kisses the side of her face gently, and takes a deep breath. They sit in silence for a long moment before he says, "Remember when you asked me what I'm afraid of?"

"Yeah," she answers quietly.

"Death," he says, breaking eye contact with her for a moment. "Not even necessarily my own, I… worry about everyone around me. My worst fear, it's… watching one of the guys die in front of me and not being able to do anything about it." The breath that he takes is shaking heavily. She thinks he might cry, but knows him well enough that she doubts it's going to happen. "And it's happened on more than one occasion."

"El…"

He shakes his head, meeting her gaze once again. "I… I'd rather it be me."

The thought nearly makes her ill. Elliot squeezes her knee for a moment.

"I-can I show you something?"

She nods, and he gets up, walking to his bureau. When he returns, there's a picture in his hand. He hands it to her. In it, there are two Marines and a dog sitting between them. She immediately recognizes Elliot to the left. She can tell he's a bit younger in the photo even through his sunglasses and helmet. There's streaks of dark sand across his face and rumpled uniform.

"Is that Brutus?" she asks, glancing up at Elliot.

Elliot nods. "Yeah."

He knows now there's only one way to make her realize she can confide in him. She believes the exact same thing as he does, that as soon as she tells him her demons, he'll run for the hills. That's the furthest thing from the truth. He sees her for all she's worth, and there's no way in hell he's running away.

"That's my buddy, Danny," he says finally. "We were overseas on deployment together, he was an IED dog handler and I'd been in Recon for several years when this picture was taken."

"You guys look close," she murmurs, examining the photo.

He nods, gaze focusing on the blank wall across from them. "We were."

"Were?"

"He's dead now." The pain on his face is evident. "I-I want to tell you this, but… it's not a nice story, Olivia. If you don't want to hear it, I'll understand."

_Does he really believe I wouldn't want to know anything about him? _Olivia reaches out and grasps his hand tightly. "You can tell me anything."

"It would probably be easier to show you."

The comment leaves little to her imagination. _No, no, no… please don't tell me… _He scoots back from her, and the suspicions in her head are confirmed as he hesitantly pulls the bottom of his shirt up with his thumb. Olivia nearly gasps when she sees the long, distinct scars running up his rib cage. She can only think of one thing that they could have come from, and the thought is making her sick.

"An IED?" she whispers.

"Yeah," he answers, dropping his shirt back down. "Like I said, I'd been in Recon for several years at this point. It was a particularly bloody period in Iraq, a lot of Marines had been killed, a lot by IEDs. Usually, we don't deploy with the straight infantry guys, but we had to do what we had to do to get the area back under control." He takes a deep breath, running a hand over his chin. "We were on a patrol with a couple of lightly armored vehicles. I was walking, and Danny was in front of me with Brutus." At the sound of his name, Brutus approaches and whines, setting his snout on Elliot's knee. Olivia sees a connection between them she's never noticed before: the connection of warriors, tested in the heat of battle.

"It happened so fast… it always does. I didn't even know what happened until it was over. The only thing I remember is hearing this deafening _boom. _Everything went white for a second… I swear to God, I thought… I-I don't even remember doing this, but I guess I turned to the side, trying to shield myself from the shrapnel. The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, everything hurts and I'm bleeding all over the place."

"Danny triggered it," Olivia whispers. _He thought he stepped on it… but it was Danny._

Elliot nods. He hasn't looked at her in quite some time; his gaze has fallen to the floor, and his eyes are now sparkling. "He died instantly. I called out to him, tried to go to him, but I couldn't move. My entire left side was torn up and bleeding. I thought…" He sighs, running his hand through his hair. "Brutus was pretty banged up, too, but he must have known what was going on, because he crawled over to me and curled up against me. That's how the corpsmen got to the three of us. He told me later that if I'd been even a couple of feet closer… "

Olivia's arms wrap tightly around him as she breathes in deeply. His heart is beating erratically in his chest, his breath hitching as he tries to get himself back under control. She can't even imagine what was going through his mind then. To see a good friend, killed right before his eyes... Tears pool in her own lashes. She'd do almost anything to take that pain away from him.

"I'm so sorry."

His arm tightens around her waist. He wants to say it's okay now, but he can't bring himself to do it. It's not okay. "The worst part is, I was standing there. I was _right there_ and I couldn't even warn him, I couldn't..."

"Elliot, those things are buried in the ground. How were you supposed to know it was there?" Olivia asks, cupping his cheek, trying to get him to look at her in the eye. He won't; his gaze is still locked to a spot on the wall.

"I don't know. I couldn't do _anything_ for him. He had a wife to go back to at home, and..." Elliot breathes in deeply, and scrubs his face with the palms of his hands. "I'm sorry, that's not even the point I'm trying to make."

"It's okay."

Elliot nods, finally meeting her gaze once more. His eyes are red-rimmed, but there's a small smile on his face. She's right, it's going to be okay, and it's thanks to her. She doesn't make him _forget _everything that's happened, but somehow, he feels better when she's around. He just hopes that he can do the same for her. "I hope so."

Olivia nods, taking a deep breath. They're much more alike than she thought they were; they both have their scars that they're trying to overcome. If he can tell her about the demons in his past, maybe…

_No. Don't risk it. _

_He just told me one of the darkest moments of his past. He showed me his scars. I didn't even think about running away, so… _

"I never told you why I really left Manhattan," she whispers finally.

He's silent for a moment. "I thought it was because you got a promotion."

"That was only part of it." Her heart is racing. She needs to tell him now. The words are like poison in her throat, expelling them is the only way she'll ever be able to feel better, but she just can't get them out. He's being so patient with her, waiting, still holding her, not saying a word. It brings more tears to her eyes. "Back in New York…" She takes a deep breath. Her next words come out in a barely audible whisper. "I was sexually assaulted."

She feels his muscles tighten and his heart start to pound in his chest. She has no idea what he's thinking, and she's terrified.

* * *

A/N: YES, it was completely imperative that I ended it at THAT SPECIFIC moment. I know, I know. Leave your thoughts and the wait will be easier with a preview of the impending reveal/talk/breakdown. Can't wait to read your thoughts (I know you have many ;).

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	16. Reveal

A/N: Hello, everyone. First of all, thank you SO much for all of the thoughts you left on the last chapter! Glad you enjoyed it.

Here's the long awaited reveal. Enjoy.

* * *

Elliot's a good person. At least, he likes to think he is. He doesn't lie, cheat or steal, he's never been arrested, hell, the worst trouble he's ever been in is overdue parking tickets. He has killed overseas, but he's never enjoyed it. He doesn't like hurting people. So the reasoning behind anyone _wanting_ to cause someone else physical or emotional pain… simply eludes him.

_"__Back in New York… I was sexually assaulted." _

His heart is pounding. He feels like there's a brick on his chest, crushing him. _Sexually assaulted. Sexually assaulted. Olivia was sexually assaulted._

"What?" The word comes out in a harsh whisper.

_Olivia lurched away from him, nearly toppling off the side of the cliff in the process. Quickly, Elliot wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her in place. _

_"__Hey, take it easy." _

_"__Do you have any more water?" _

_You had to know it was something like this. Everything she's done, all of the clues… Are you really surprised? _

"There was a serial rapist loose in Manhattan," Olivia begins. "William Lewis. I'd already had one run-in with him before, I was the one that took him in on the first set of charges, but somehow he ended up making bail. I worked four to twelve at the time, so by the time I got back home it was closer to one in the morning. I just remember…" Olivia takes a shuttering breath, bringing her knees to her chest. "Everything seemed fine when I walked in. Before I knew what was happening, he was behind me with his hand over my mouth. I couldn't even scream. H-he… he slammed my head up against the wall. I blacked out. When I woke up, I was cuffed to a bed in a dark room. He was watching me."

"Did he… did he rape you?" he asks softly, his voice cracking. He doesn't want to know; God, he doesn't want her to tell him.

_You were agonizing over this, Stabler. You've got it._

Right now, the horrors she suffered through are left to his imagination… and it's not pretty, not at all.

Olivia shakes her head, and he releases the breath he's been holding. He'll chalk that one up as a victory.

"It's the closest I've ever come," she murmurs. "H-he…"

Elliot reaches out to place his hand on her back, but she flinches away. The motion sends a knife through his gut, which he shoves down with a swallow. _She's not here with me, anymore, she's in that room. What was I thinking?_ He can't stand seeing this pain on her face. Swallowing once more, he says, "It's okay. Y-you don't have to… if you don't want to…"

If she hears him, she doesn't show it. She's not even looking at him anymore; her eyes are glued to a spot on the wall as she lifts her shirt. Covering her stomach, there are scars that haven't had a chance to fade yet. They're small, and round, and peppered in are long, angular gashes. _Cigarettes. God knows what else._

Suddenly, blinding rage flashes replaces the disgust. He wants to find whoever did this and kill him in the slowest, most painful way he knows how. A gunshot to the head is far too good for this animal. What kind of person could do this? _How could anyone do this to you?_

"He climbed on top of me. Beat me. I cried, I screamed, I tried everything, but no one heard. The louder I got, the more aroused he became."

"When did he do this to you?" he whispers, running his thumbs gently over the cigarette burns.

"He tried to kiss me, but I pulled away. Bastard bit my lip so hard I started to bleed, and laughed. After that, h-he… lit some cigarettes, and… When he was done with that, he u-unzipped his pants, started _pleasuring_ himself. Asked me if I liked watching him, then said I'd enjoy having him inside me even more.

"He made me touch him." She sounds almost detached. It's beginning to scare him. "Said that he was sure I know my way around a cock. When that wasn't enough, he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. Told me to open my mouth. Said, 'if you bite me, I'll shoot you with your own gun and leave you here naked for your cop buddies to find'." Olivia shakes her head. "I should have done it. W-hen he forced my jaw open, and… I should have bit down as hard I could."

"But you didn't," Elliot whispers.

Olivia shakes her head. "It was only a minute or two before the door burst open. Apparently, somebody _had_ heard my screaming."

He's stunned silent. There's so much he needs to say, but the words just aren't coming.

"I'm sorry," she says, the tears streaming down her cheeks now. "I-I shouldn't h-have said anything."

In that single moment, his rage dissipates. She doesn't need his anger, she needs his support.

—-

Olivia immediately regrets telling him anything. There's horror and disgust in his eyes. _That's it. You just ruined everything. He doesn't want you, you're damaged goods. _

"Don't say that," Elliot says. His hands twitch in his lap; she knows he wants to reach out to her, but he doesn't. "I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me. Thank you, Liv."

_He's _**_thanking_**_ me? _

Olivia stares at him for a moment to make sure he really means what she's hearing. He gives her a small smile, and finally reaches out to her. "Can I…?"

She nods. He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, then lets his thumb run gently over her cheekbone. "You're the strongest woman I've ever known."

"If I was strong, I would have been able to stop him," she whispers.

"Strength isn't just physical," he says. "It's mental, too."

She scoffs. "Then I'm definitely not."

"You're moving on. I call that strong, Olivia." His hand slides down to her shoulder, and squeezes. "He tried to break you. He did everything his sick mind could dream up to make sure you were never the same again, and here you are. Living. Hopefully… happy."

The uncertainty in his eyes in that moment sends her crumbling. He pulls her into his chest slowly, giving her ample time to pull away, but she doesn't, rather seeking the warmth and comfort that his embrace provides. She whispers, "You make me happy."

Elliot's arms lock around her, holding her tightly. She's prepared herself for the worst kind of flashbacks imaginable from expelling all of her demons, but that's not the case. The only thing she hears is a strong, steady heartbeat. The only thing she sees is the ink on Elliot's shoulder as her tears soak through the material of his shirt. He's so calm. How can he be so incredibly calm about this?

Just the thought of letting him go sends terror racing through her. She can't close her eyes, in fear that if she opens them, he'll be gone. He's her anchor now; he's shielding her from not only the outer demons, but the inner ones as well. Her protector.

"You make me happy, too," Elliot says finally. "And I'll do anything to keep you happy. That includes kicking the ass of anyone that comes to hurt you."

"I don't need you to protect me," she murmurs half-heartedly.

"I know you don't. But it'll save you the trouble, huh?"

Even through the tears, Olivia smiles. Elliot presses a kiss to her forehead, clearly satisfied with his work, and says, "That's what I thought."

—

Olivia's finally sleeping once more. It took a long while to relax her, lots of back rubbing and soothing words, but she's resting against his chest, eyes closed, tears dried, breathing deep and even. Elliot waits several minutes, then uses all of his stealth to slip out of the bed and down the hall to the bathroom. He splashes his face with cold water, swallows some to soothe his dry throat, and takes several deep breaths. Her words are still burning in his mind.

_"__He climbed on top of me. Beat me. I cried, I screamed."_

_"__He lit some cigarettes, and… when he was done with that, he u-unzipped his pants, started… pleasuring himself. Said I'd enjoy having him inside me."_

_"__He made me touch him. Said that he was sure I know my way around a cock." _

Elliot swallows the lump in his throat as tears mix with the water that still soaks his skin. The questions still burn in his head. _How could someone do this? _He should know what people are capable of, what depraved acts they can do, but to do something like this, to _Olivia_… She's the most beautiful person he's met, inside and out.

_I'm a goddamn Marine, Marines don't fucking cry. _He scolds himself, curses his weakness. _Get a fucking grip. This didn't even happen to me, it happened to the woman in my bed. I've got to fucking be strong for her._

He wishes the man could be in front of him now. Elliot would show him who the real bitch is. Kick his teeth in. Break his legs, break his arms, his back. Whatever pain the creep did to Olivia, he would increase it tenfold.

Elliot closes his eyes as his knuckles turn white from gripping the vanity. _Get control of yourself. _

He would almost rather be in a firefight. At least he's trained for that, he knows exactly what to do when bullets start flying. This is completely new territory; how do you deal with something like this? How can can he possibly help her move past these types of demons?

_By being there for her. Caring for her. _The voice comes from a place deep inside of him. He wipes his face off with a towel, and takes a second to look at himself. That's exactly what he needs to do, and he's going to do it if it kills him.

Olivia's still sleeping when he reenters the bedroom. He slides back into bed, pulls the blanket over him, and his arm wraps ever so gently around her waist.

"El?" she breathes, startling awake.

"It's okay," he soothes.

"What're you doing?"

"Laying here with you. Shhh."

Olivia turns and buries her face in his chest. He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes slide shut. "I'm not gonna let anything else happen to you." His voice is a phantom over her skin. His arms tighten around her protectively. "That's a promise."

—-

Olivia's not sure whether she's meant to hear that or not. She responds anyway, "You can't promise that, El."

He shuffles, rolls her onto her back, and leans down to kiss her. He holds himself above her with his strong arms, and right there with him, she almost believes his claim. The position he holds over her would usually make her feel uncomfortable, helpless, but with him… it's different. He's sheltering her with his body, not using it against her. He's protecting her from whatever's thrown her way.

"I can," he whispers. "And I just did."

She has absolutely no doubt in her mind that he believes what he's saying.

"You will never go through anything like that again. Ever." The emotion in his voice is choking him. His muscles contract under her fingers, his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "Okay?"

Olivia says nothing. He gives her a smile, and a slight nod. "It's okay if you don't believe me right now. I'll just have to prove it to you."

"How do you plan on doing that?" she whispers, staring into his eyes.

Elliot leans down, and plants a whisper of a kiss to her lips. "You'll just have to wait and see."

—-

The sun shines through the window, providing the only light in the dim room. Olivia's head rests on the left side of Elliot chest, and her arm is slung lightly around his waist. Her tears have long since dried, and even though the sadness still rests in the pit of her stomach, his presence is truly soothing.

Neither of them speak, and they haven't in a long while. The digital clock on Elliot's night table reads that it's almost noon.

"I haven't spent this long laying in bed in a while," she says finally, breaking the silence they've both been reveling in.

His chest rumbles in quiet laughter. "Yeah, me neither. But, hey, everyone needs a lazy day once in a while."

His hand runs up and down her back twice more before he speaks again. "I dunno about you, but I'm getting pretty hungry. What do you think?"

She nods. "I could go for a bite."

Elliot rolls off the bed, and gives a deep yawn as he stretches his stiff muscles. "Alright, let's go see what we can scrounge up."

"I'm just gonna clean up a little bit first," Olivia says. "If you don't mind."

He gives her a smile. "Of course not."

As Elliot slips out of the bedroom, Olivia stands and makes her way into the bathroom. She turns the faucet on, splashes water on her face and gives herself a good look in the mirror. Surprisingly, the bags under her eyes are gone. Her hair is messy, and knotted, but she finds a comb in the medicine cabinet, which she uses, then ruffles it lightly. When she's satisfied, she turns off the light and walks back through his bedroom.

Elliot's dark green uniform is pressed neatly as it hangs on the back of the door. Curiously, Olivia nudges the door closed, just to get a better glimpse. It's the first time she's really taken a look at the colorful bars on the lapel of the jacket, and she's curious as to what they mean. Her finger slides over the purple bar with white stripes at either end resting near the top. _A Purple Heart? _

"What's going on in there, did you fall in?" The door slides open, and Elliot's eyes meet hers.

"Oh, no," she says, gesturing towards the uniform jacket. "I was just…"

"Just being nosy?" he teases, glancing at the jacket.

"I never noticed how many bars you have on this thing." Olivia's hand drops back to her side, but her eyes remain glued to the lapel.

Elliot shrugs, taking a moment to look at the jacket himself. "I've been on a lot of deployments."

"Will you tell me what they are?"

"Sure. But not right now." He takes her hand, and guides her out to the kitchen. At his insistence, Olivia sits at the breakfast bar, and watches him as he begins preparing a few of the ingredients he's taken out. "I'm gonna make you the world famous Stabler BLTE."

"BLTE?" she asks.

"You'll see."

He slathers butter on the bottoms of two rolls, and places them face down on one of the pans he's set on the stove. Olivia stands, makes her way to the stereo on the table next to the backdoor, and presses the 'play' button. The sound of a plucking guitar fills the air.

_"__Well, I won't back down_

_No, I won't back down_

_You can stand me up at the gates of Hell, _

_but I won't back down." _

Olivia smiles. "You have just about every type of rock in your collection, don't you?"

Elliot shrugs, a smirk of his own coming across his face as he cracks an egg into the pan. "Well, what can I tell ya, I like good music. Besides, you've gotta love Petty."

_"…__and I'll keep this world from draggin' me down _

_Gonna stand my ground _

_And I won't back down."_

The guitar picks up as Olivia hears the sizzling of cooking eggs in the pan. While she was in the bathroom cleaning up, Elliot opened the blinds and the windows, filling the house with natural light and fresh air. Brutus trots up to her, sniffs her hand for a moment, then gives it a lick before sitting next to his master, looking up at the food on the counter with wide eyes.

"Brutus, no. Lay down."

Olivia approaches him, and sets her cheek on his back as he takes the bread off of the pan, replacing it with a few thick slices of bacon. Once he's finished, he turns towards her, setting a warm hand on her back. "Hello, there."

"Hi," she murmurs.

_"__Well I know what's right, I got just one life_

_In a world that keeps on pushin' me around _

_But I'll stand my ground and I won't back down." _

He's humming the words just inches from her ear now, and rocking back and forth ever so slightly.

_"__Hey, baby, there ain't no easy way out_

_Hey I will stand my ground _

_And I won't back down_

_No, I won't back down." _

As the music fades, he presses a kiss to the top of her head and turns back towards his work. "Have something to drink. I've got plenty in the fridge, take your pick."

Olivia does so, scanning the contents of the fridge. Finally, she selects a bottle of water, and grabs one for him as well. She sets it on the counter beside him. "Thanks."

The house suddenly fills with a bongo and maraca.

_"__Please allow me to introduce myself_

_I'm a man with wealth and taste _

_I've been around for a long, long year_

_Stole many a man's soul and faith." _

Elliot's belting the words now, and uncontrollable laughter rips from Olivia's chest. "Jesus, stick to your day job, El."

_"__And I was around when Jesus Christ_

_Had his moment of doubt and pain _

_Made damn sure that pilate _

_Washed his hands and sealed his fate." _

"I'd like to see you do better, Benson," he says, taking the pan with the bacon off of the heat. "If you're not scared, that is."

"Excuse me?"

Elliot shrugs, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Hey, not everyone has the singing voice of yours truly. I understand if you're afraid of not matching up."

"I think Brutus could howl and the result would be more in key than what you just sang," Olivia says, taking a sip of water.

"All's I hear is talk. Let's hear it."

_"__Pleased to meet you _

_Hope you guess my name_

_What's puzzling you _

_Is the nature of my game." _

She thinks he's going to laugh right back at her; he's right, she doesn't have much of a singing voice either, but he doesn't. Instead, he joins in, and they're singing horribly together.

_"__I watched with glee_

_While your kings and queens _

_Fought for ten decades_

_For the gods they made." _

As the song goes on, they both break out in laughter. Olivia shakes her head, leaning back against the counter as she watches him finish up. "I don't think either of us are going on tour any time soon."

Elliot shrugs as he begins to put the different elements together: bottom bun, melted cheese, the eggs cooked sunny side up, a healthy serving of bacon, lettuce, tomato and then finally the top bun. "Maybe not, but hey. Our jobs are much better, anyway." He hands her a plate. "Bon appétit."

"Wow," she says, looking over the sandwich. "It's definitely different."

"Try it."

She takes a bite, swallows, and nods. "Delicious."

She doesn't miss the twinkle in his eyes before he turns back to the sandwich in front of him. They eat mostly without words, music from the stereo the only sounds between them. When they finish, Elliot takes both of their plates and set them in the sink.

"What do you think, want me to explain those medals now?" he asks, turning back towards her.

Olivia's about to answer when her cellphone rings from the bedroom. She gives him an apologetic look before slipping out of the kitchen.

It's Raul, calling her away to her case. Olivia sighs, grabbing her sweatshirt off of the top of his dresser. Elliot stands in the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her as she slips it back over her shoulders. "What is it, a case?"

Olivia nods, looking at him with regret in her eyes. "I wish I could stay."

"It's alright, go save Anaheim," he answers, stepping to the side to let her by.

Olivia stops, letting her hand rest on his arm for a moment. He walks her to his front door, gives her a peck on the lips, and bides her a farewell before closing the door behind her.

It takes about five minutes for Olivia to start yearning his presence once again.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. As always, send your thoughts, I'd love to read them. Previews will be sent and written :)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	17. Jump

A/N: Hey, guys. I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

* * *

Elliot finishes wrapping the tape around his knuckles, slips the glove on, flexes his fists and rolls his shoulders."Ready?"

"Gimme a minute," Murph says, still sitting on the bench as he slips on his right glove. Elliot's feet sink slightly into the red mat as he stands.

This has been a tradition for the two of them nearly since they both enlisted. Whenever they meet, they make it a point to get in at least one good sparring session. Their record is just about even, with Elliot coming out as the victor just a couple of times more. He doesn't hesitate to rub it in Murph's face.

"Alright, let's go." Murph jumps to his feet. Their gloves meet in a friendly tap before each man drops into a defensive stance.

"You been practicing?" Elliot asks as they circle each other. "I'd like an actual challenge this time."

Murph throws a jab. Elliot dips under it easily, but he knows it's not much of an accomplishment. His opponent is simply testing the waters. Murph comes it him once again, this time throwing a left, a right and another left. He blocks the first two, sidesteps the last one, and throws his own combo of three. They hit Murph's forearms, which now protect his body. They have two rules: no head shots, and no low blows. Other than that, it's free game, and a few of their sessions have even turned into knock-down drag-outs on the mat they stand on.

"How's that girl of yours?" Murph asks, bouncing as the drop back from each other. "She's a good one."

He's filled with an overwhelming sense of bittersweetness. "She's fine."

After another failed jab, Murph says, "uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?"

The two jabs Elliot throws next are just a little bit harder. "_I cried, I screamed."_

"We're good, if that's what you're asking."

"C'mon, Elliot, I see that look in your eyes."

_If I met the son of a bitch, he'd be laying in a hospital bed. Or six feet under. _

"She told me something," he begins finally, "that I really can't share."

"Oh." Murph comes at Elliot again, this time landing two punches to his body. The Marine curses himself. _Fucking focus!_

_"__He made me touch him. Said I'd enjoy having him inside me."_

Elliot throws three jabs. Two hit. He throws three more, and all three hit. Before he knows it, he's sending Murph backwards, landing jab after jab. They hit the wall, but he doesn't stop.

Murph shoves him back, hard. "Fuck!"

Elliot slides back a few steps, wiping the sweat off his brow as he breathes heavily, not just from the physical exertion, but the thoughts raging through his head, as well. _She's suffered. _

"Sorry."

He's got to learn how to put this shit in the back of his mind. It's not as if he's a stranger to pain, but coming from the woman he cares about… how do you deal with that?

"Yeah, you will be." With that, Murph comes after him again.

Elliot loses this time. There's far too much on his mind.

"So… where are we going?" Olivia asks, turning towards Elliot as he merges into the middle lane of the highway. He's been thinking good and hard for a long while, and thinks he's got the perfect solution to get both of their minds off of Olivia's most recent revelation. They haven't spoken about it, but he can still see that look in her eyes- the same look that she had while she was sitting on his bed, telling him her story.

"You'll see."

They've been driving along interstate five for about twenty minutes, windows rolled down, music plays over the sound of the wind. Olivia shakes her head, a small smile coming across her face as her gaze turns back towards the window. She's always hated surprises, but she knows damn well he's not going to spill the beans. She may as well learn to enjoy this, because there's only one person that she's met that's just as stubborn as she is, and he's sitting in the seat next to her.

Their final destination is an airstrip in Oceanside. Olivia turns towards Elliot, confusion in her eyes. "What are we doing here?"

"I remember that twinkle in your eyes when I mentioned my monthly airborne jumps," Elliot says, closing the door of the truck. "And it just so happens, I've got a buddy here. He's gonna take us up in his plane."

"Whoa, whoa," Olivia says, her heart jumping in her chest. "You think… you want _me_ to jump out of a plane?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Because that's terrifying!" Olivia says. "I didn't think you'd actually… how many people do you _know_?"

Elliot chuckles, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her towards the building. "It's alright, Liv. You'll have me, I'll make sure you get to the ground nice and safe."

"How are you going to do that if the parachute doesn't open?" Olivia mutters, but she follows him anyway.

"It'll open."

"Hey, Elliot!" The man in front of the building is tall and lanky, with a messy beard, sunglasses and a baseball cap. "This must be Olivia."

"This would be her," Elliot says, squeezing her shoulder gently. "Liv, this is Keith. Former Marine Corps captain, pilot during operations Desert Shield, Desert Storm, Southern Watch, Enduring Freedom… am I missing any?"

"You've got the major ones, I think," Keith says. "Elliot tells me you've never gone up before."

"That's right."

A huge grin spreads across Keith's face. "Great! I promise, it's gonna be a lot of fun!"

Olivia glances at Elliot, who shrugs. "Keith is a little jealous. There's nothing like experiencing the rush for the first time."

"I wish I could be in the air to see it," the pilot says. "But, unfortunately, Stabler here doesn't have his pilot's license yet."

Elliot scoffs as they begin walking. "As if I have the time to do that. Who do you think I am?"

"Hey, you've got every other damn certification." Keith turns to Olivia. "Has the man showed you all of his medals?"

Olivia glances at Elliot. "No, as a matter of fact, he hasn't."

Elliot rubs the back of his neck, and she swears he sees a red tint appear on his skin. "So, about our jump…"

"Right," Keith says, clapping his hands together. "Olivia, since you're a beginner, we're gonna start off with a tandem jump. That means you'll be rigged to Elliot the whole time, so you don't even have to think. He'll take care of everything except actually taking that first step out."

Out on the runway, Keith explains everything to her, which isn't much. They'll go up. At 13,000 feet, they'll jump out, they'll free fall, and then hopefully their parachute will open. She's just along for the ride, all of the work will be done the man standing next to her, who has a big grin spread across his face. If she didn't know that he's done this dozens of times, she'd be absolutely terrified. She still somewhat is.

Elliot puts on his harness and the rest of the equipment, including the backpack that holds their parachute, then helps her into hers. It fits quite snugly. The plane they get into is small, with metal benches lining the sides. Elliot guides her to the very end, closest to the door they'll soon be exiting. As soon as they're situated, Keith has a brief conversation with air traffic control, and they start moving.

Time is moving at a crawl. It seems like the craft takes forever to finally reach altitude and level out, and for Keith to give Elliot the thumbs up. "Alright, you two!"

Elliot stands, and clasps Keith on the shoulder. "See you on the ground, buddy."

With that, he faces to Olivia, and tells her to turn around. With a few snaps and buckles, they're rigged together, so close that his chest is touching her back. "Alright, now, just like told you. As soon as I open that door, you're gonna sit down on the ledge. Okay?"

Olivia nods. She doesn't trust her voice right now. Is she really doing this? Is she really gonna jump out of a plane?

"Alright." He reaches for her hand, and squeezes. "You've got it, Liv. Like Keith said, just let me do all the work. You trust me, right?"

Olivia nods. "Yeah."

"Look at me." It's a bit of a struggle to do so thanks to their position, but she does, her eyes making contact with his cerulean orbs. "With your life?"

"With my life," she whispers, nodding, and it's the easiest thing in the world.

Elliot gives a single nod. "Okay. Now, this is gonna be loud."

He leans forward, slides the door open, and she instantly knows what he means. The sound of howling wind infiltrates every corner of her mind, making it nearly impossible for her to even hear herself think. She sits on the floor, Elliot directly behind her, and scoots the couple of inches to the ledge of the doorway. She nearly jumps out of her skin when he pushes her forward even more. He is the only thing anchoring her to the plane now; the sky is at her feet, the wind whirls around her, his arm is locked around her waist.

Anxiety and anticipation burn in her chest. Her fingers and toes tingle, her blood roars through her veins and her head is spinning. They're high…so very, very high above the ground. There are even a few wisps of clouds below them. She's about to jump through a cloud… is this really happening?

Elliot yells something in her ear. She turns to ask what, but before she knows it, the plane is long gone and all's she feels is him against her back. She's falling. She's. Falling. SHE'S FALLING. Her mouth opens to scream. Nothing comes out, or at least she doesn't think anything does, because it's way too loud around her to hear anything else. She reaches up to grab Elliot, to grab _something_, but their position makes that impossible.

The earth is growing closer and closer. Elliot's arm tightens around her, and her hand grasps his, squeezing as tight as she can. She wants to close her eyes tight, but she can't bring herself to do it.

And now everything's slowing down. The howling of the wind fades, replaced with the almost violent thumping of her heart. She's winded and breathing heavily. Elliot's arm isn't around her waist anymore; both of them are on the parachute's handles, steering them towards the ground at a low, leisurely pace.

Olivia finally takes a look around. She has never seen the sky as big as it is right now. To her left, the ocean spreads out into infinity and to the right, all of the buildings look like tiny specks. She can't believe how high she is; the sight is beautiful, peaceful, serene… it's like nothing she's ever experienced.

"Beautiful, huh?" Elliot says, his lips mere millimeters away from her ear. She nods. The breath has been stolen from her long ago.

It takes three or four minutes for them to finally land. Elliot instruct hers to put her legs up just before they hit the ground, and they land with a gentle _plop._ The parachute falls to the grass with a wisp.

"Okay?" Elliot asks, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before he gets to work detaching their harnesses.

"Wow," she breathes finally. "Uh, I'm good."

Elliot chuckles, turning her chin towards him with a gentle hand. His chapped lips meet hers as he says, "that's my girl."

He gets the parachute unhooked and jumps easily to his feet. Olivia watches as he loosens his harness. Her hands shake and her legs feel like jello; she's sure she can't stand. At least, not yet. Elliot smiles down at her as holds out his hand. She takes it, he pulls her up, and wraps his arm around her, keeping her standing. She wonders silently if he knows that.

Keith jogs up to them. "How was it?!"

"I dunno, I haven't heard a verdict yet," Elliot answers. He releases his hold on her almost hesitantly, and gets to work cleaning up the mess of the parachute that was left behind. "How'd you like it, Liv?"

"It was… I haven't decided yet," Olivia says.

Keith laughs, clasping Olivia's shoulder. "Don't worry, that's normal. You'll start thinking about it a few miles down the road."

Olivia glances at Elliot, who nods. "True."

Olivia thinks that Elliot will take them home after their adventure, but, of course, she's wrong. He moves the truck so the bed is facing the airstrip. He opens the tailgate, slides into the bed, and they sit together against the rear window. A comfortable silence washes over them as they watch small planes take off and land. It's oddly relaxing; Olivia's head falls against Elliot's shoulder as warmth fills her up.

"I got you something," Elliot says a while laster.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

Elliot pulls away slightly so he can look her in the eyes. "I know. But… you know, after everything that you've been through recently, with Ruiz's trial, and… well, I just thought you deserved something nice." He fumbles around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a black felt box. "I saw this, and I thought of you."

Olivia's gaze slides from his eyes down to the box in his hands. "What did you do?"

He shrugs, a smile coming across his face as he opens the box. Inside, triangular pendant with a diamond at the top rests on a thin, dainty chain. Olivia loses her breath as she stares down at it; it's beautiful. "It's rose quartz, for the archangel Ariel. She gives us courage, bravery and confidence. Even though you may not think so… that's you, Liv. Even after everything you've been through, you're courageous, strong, and…" he swallows, "the most beautiful woman I've ever met, inside and out."

"Elliot," she whispers, tears forming in her eyes. "It's…"

He takes the necklace out of its case, slips around back of her, and fastens it. The pendant drops perfectly below her collarbone. Olivia turns and wraps her arms tightly around him. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

His strong arms envelop her. "You're welcome."

Her hand slips up his back, runs gentle over the short hair on the back of his head, and brings their lips together. When their lips fall apart, he gives her a smile, grasps her hand, and they turn back towards the planes above.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Next chapter, things get dicey.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	18. Ruin

A/N: Hey, guys. Glad everyone seemed to enjoy last chapter.

For PaperFrames, because payback is a bitch. But I love you, so it's okay ;)

* * *

"Whoa, whoa," Casey says, leaning in over the table that holds two half-eaten salads and glasses of water. She and Olivia sit outside of a crowded restaurant in Anaheim, having made lunch plans earlier that morning. "He did _what_?"

"He took me skydiving," Olivia repeats. A smile covers her face and warmth fills her chest. It's been a whole six days since her leap of faith, and she's decided that she actually enjoyed it. She's excited to ask Elliot to take her again.

Elliot. Her hand covers the necklace that still hangs around her neck as a smile crosses her face. She's also decided that the time she spends with the man is amazing and there's nothing she'd rather do. He's the only one that's ever taken the time to do such wonderful things with her; who else would think of skydiving or rifle shooting as a date?

"Are you kidding me?" Casey says. "How was it?"

Olivia smiles. "It was… I can't even describe it, Casey."

"So, what, he just asked you to jump off a plane with him?"

Olivia rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "No, he didn't even ask. He said 'I have a surprise for you', got me into his truck and drove me down to Oceanside. I didn't even know I was going until ten minutes before we went up in the plane."

"_Seriously_? What the hell would he have done if you said no?"

"I dunno. He probably knew I wouldn't." Olivia takes a sip of her water, shaking her head. "Come to think of it, if I did say no, he probably would have dragged me up there anyway, even just to watch _him_ jump out."

Casey chuckles and they both return to their meals for a moment.

"It sounds like you've got quite the catch," the blonde says.

"You talked to him. What do you think?"

"I like him. He really cares about you."

"Yeah? What makes you say that?"

Casey pauses, taking a bite of her salad. She chews slowly, then washes it down with a sip of water before answering. "He came to me after your testimony. He was really worried about you, about what happened in New York. Just, the look in his eye when I told him I couldn't talk about it… someone doesn't look like that unless they really care."

Olivia nods. She thinks she saw that exact same look that day laying in bed with him. "I told him everything."

"You _what_?"

"I slept over his place last week. When the morning came, I… he shared some really personal things with me, and I told him all about Lewis."

"What did he say?"

Her heart jumps as she remembers the support and affection in his eyes. "He thanked me for trusting him and called me the strongest woman he's ever known."

Casey smiles. "I told you it would be fine if you said something about it."

"You did," Olivia says. "And I should have known. But…"

"You were nervous. That's understandable."

"I was killing myself over it, and it all turned out to be for nothing," the detective murmurs. She sighs, running her hand through her hair. "I'm just glad he reacted the way he did. I don't know what I would have done if…" A cold shiver runs down her spine. She doesn't even want to finish that thought.

"But he didn't."

"Thank God for that," Olivia murmurs, taking a breath. _Thank God he's the most compassionate man I've ever known_. "I want to plan something for him, after everything he's done."

"Like what?"

She shrugs. "I dunno yet. I'm still trying to think of that. I don't know if I can even compete with everything's he's planned."

Casey smiles. "I'm sure he'll love whatever you do."

Olivia's phone buzzes in her pocket, and she sighs when Raul's name comes across the screen. "What's up, Raul?"

"Don't sound so excited to talk to me," Raul says.

"I know why you're calling. What'd we catch?"

"Rape victim at AHMC. Conklin just called me."

"Alright, I'll be there."

Olivia ends the call, and slips her phone back into her pocket. "Sorry, Case…"

The attorney hold her hand up. "It's alright, go take care of your vic."

* * *

Raul stands against the wall of the hospital as Olivia approaches him quickly. "What do we have?"

"Her name is Paulina Esperanza. She walked into the squad room an hour ago, I just managed to get her here for an exam."

"What did she tell you?"

"Not much. Just that she was raped and she didn't see her attacker. We got a rape kit, waiting for the results."

"Alright, I'll see what I can get out of her."

The woman is about twenty-five, with long, dark hair, and big brown eyes. She sits on the hospital bed, picking at her nails with her bottom lip sucked into her mouth.

"Hi, Paulina, I'm Detective Benson. I'd like to talk to you about what happened."

"I was raped," she says in a soft voice, glancing up at the detective.

"Okay," Olivia says, moving further into the room and taking a seat beside her. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

Paulina nods. "I met him at Bravo, the nightclub, but he never told me his name. Before the club closed, he asked me if I wanted to go home with him. I said no and went back to my apartment. He must have followed me, because as soon as I closed the door and walked into my living room, he hit me from behind. I fell to the ground. W-when I woke up, I was laying on my stomach. His hand shoved my head into the pillow so I couldn't see his face, and he'd already pulled my pants and underwear down. He said 'scream, and I'll kill you', and then… he raped me. When he finished, he got up and left."

"That's it?" Olivia asks. "You can't remember anything else?"

Paulina shakes her head. "I was scared. I just didn't want to die, so I didn't try to fight him."

"Okay. Can you describe him at all, Paulina? What he smelt like, his voice, anything at all?"

"Um," she begins, wiping her eyes, "white, and very fit. With short blond hair. He didn't have a wedding ring on."

* * *

"Anything?" Raul asks as Olivia leaves the hospital room.

"A description of the guy, but no name. Did the rape kit come up with anything?"

"Yeah. They found traces of spermicide."

"Alright, she said she met him at a nightclub before it happened. Let's see if we can get anything from them there."

The club is a red and white, two story building with a large parking lot in the back. Though it's only just past two, there are already a few cars parked there. Olivia and Raul make their way inside, and over to the bartender.

"What can I do for you?" the man asks with a heavy Spanish accent. He's tall and olive skinned with long, unruly dark hair.

Olivia and Raul flash their badges. "We want to ask you about Paulina Esperanza."

"Who?"

Olivia sets her picture down on the bar top. "Her. Remember now?"

"Oooh, sí, I remember that mamacita. She was all over the dance floor last night."

Raul grabs the picture. "That _mujer_'s name is Paulina. That's what you'll call her when we're talking, _sí_?"

"Alright, alright. She was here last night almost until closing. I remember because she was one of the last margaritas I served."

"Did she leave with anyone?" Olivia asks.

"I didn't see, but she was with this güero all night. When she came to get her drink, I told her to call me when she wanted a real man."

"Uh-huh," Raul says. "Did you to get the guy's name?"

"No, but he paid for the drinks on a credit card." The bartender turns, digs through a stack of papers below the counter, and slides a receipt towards them. "That was him."

"Shane Dempsey," Raul murmurs, scribbling the name down on a page in his pocket-sized notebook. "Gracias."

"De nada," he answers, and after the two detectives turn to leave, he adds, "Adiós, mamí."

Raul shoots something back in Spanish that Olivia doesn't quite catch.

"What did you say to him?" she asks as the doors close behind them.

Raul shrugs as he takes out the keys to the sedan. "Basically to watch his respect for ladies. I didn't like the way he was talking about Paulina in there. Or you."

"I'm just glad he gave us anything at all."

* * *

"The whole place was clean," Olivia says, pinning a picture of Paulina on the board across from her desk. "The only trace of any sexual activity was a used condom and wrapper in the bathroom trash."

"Any prints?" Raul asks.

"A perfect thumbprint on the wrapper."

Raul nods as he types into the computer. "I'm looking up our friend, Dempsey."

Olivia steps back, and looks over their information so far as she waits for Raul's search to finish.

"Looks like he's a U.S. Marine."

Her heart jumps. "Where's he stationed, Pendleton?"

"Yep. Says here is a Sergeant attached to the first reconnaissance battalion."

_Shit. That's Elliot's unit. _

"Let's go pick him up," Raul says, standing. Olivia hesitates, biting her lip as she stares at the phone. _Should I call him? Maybe they know each other. _"Olivia, are you coming?"

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I'm coming."

With that, she grabs her sunglasses off of the desk and follows her partner out the door.

They find Dempsey in the barracks. He's dressed in his combat uniform pants and boots and a plain forest green t-shirt as he cleans the floor in his room. Another Marine is with him, scrubbing the window with a cloth.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," Raul says. "Detective Vasquez, this is my partner, Detective Benson. Do you know Paulina Esperanza?"

"Not very well, sir," Shane says. "We met off base, but nothing more."

"She was raped," Olivia says. "Know anything about that?"

"No, ma'am. That's terrible, is she okay?"

"We'd like you to come up to the station house to answer a few questions about your whereabouts last night," Raul says.

"Wait, you don't think it was me, do you?" Shane asks. "I could never."

"Then you'll have no problem coming up."

Shane shoots a nervous look to the other Marine in the room, who shrugs. "I've got you covered."

"Alright, alright, fine. Just to prove I didn't rape her," Shane says. He grabs his jacket off of the back of the desk chair in the corner, and guides the detectives out of the room.

* * *

Elliot hates Field Days. Not because he has to do any cleaning, that's one of the perks of living off base, but because, as a gunnery sergeant, he has the occasional honor of inspecting the rooms. Today, there are no training events in the afternoon, so he's stuck in the barracks, clipboard in hand.

"Really, Lance Corporal?" he asks, turning to the young man standing behind him. "Did you even bother cleaning? There's dust all over this shit."

"Yes, Gunny."

Elliot shakes his head, scribbling on his clipboard. "Sure as hell doesn't look like it. It's damn hard failing _my_ inspections. Put in effort next time. If you fail again, it's not gonna be pretty."

He doesn't like ass chewing, either. There's a reason he never thought about becoming a drill instructor. Usually his easiness is not taken advantage of, the men have more respect for him than that, but on the off occasion that it does happen, he takes the liberty of bringing the hammer down hard. He may be easygoing, but he won't accept bullshit.

Elliot shakes his head as he exits the Lance Corporal's room. This one needs a lot of work, and for his own sake, Elliot hopes he catches on quick.

The next room houses two sergeants. He recognizes one of the names: Shane Dempsey. They were on their last deployment together. When he looks up, there's only one man, standing in the middle of the room, arms resting loosely behind his back.

"Where's Sergeant Dempsey?" Elliot asks.

"I don't know, Gunny," the man, Sergeant D'Angelo, says. "Two cops came a few hours ago and took him away."

"Two cops?" Elliot repeats. "Why?"

"I think the lady said rape."

"Rape?" Elliot's eyes bug out of his head and the clipboard nearly falls from his grasp. He's known the man for about six and a half years now, and there's no way he believes that. "Did you get names or badge numbers?"

"I think it was Vasquez," Thompson says. "Vasquez and a lady… Bennett? Brennan?"

"Benson?" The word flies out of Elliot's mouth before he can stop it. His heart is beating inches throat. _Please, don't tell me. _

"Yeah, that was it!"

_Fuck. _

It takes a very long two hours to finally finish the room inspections. He's in his truck about two minutes after, and the Anaheim PD parking lot an hour after that.

* * *

There's knocking on the interrogation room glass, and Olivia slips out of the room to see Raul standing in the pit, arms crossed over his chest, wary look on his face.

"What's going on?" Olivia asks.

"Elliot's waiting for you at your desk," Raul says. "Apparently it's urgent."

"Elliot?" Olivia repeats. _Of course. Are you really surprised? _

She slips through the door to the bullpen, and sees him standing by her desk, arms crossed over his chest. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his uniform, the same one that the suspect she just left wears.

"Elliot," Olivia greets. "What are you doing here?"

"Sergeant Dempsey," Elliot says. "You arrested him this afternoon?"

"Yes. He's a suspect in a rape case." She'd been right to worry. Here he is now, and she's not sure what the look on his face means.

"You didn't think of calling me?" The anger in his voice is frightening, not because she's worried he'll hurt her, but because it's unexpected. She's never seen him angry before. "Or asking who his commanding officer is?"

"We just picked him up, he's not under arrest yet."

Elliot nods, pursing his lips. "Can I speak to him?"

"El…"

"He's in my unit, Olivia, under my command. I've got to talk to him."

Olivia sighs. "Make it quick."

Elliot walks into the interrogation room, where Shane sits, hands folded in front of him. "Gunny?"

"We're not on base, Shane, call me by my damn name," Elliot says.

"Sorry, Elliot," Shane says, massaging the back of his neck with his hand.

"It's fine." Elliot sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Thompson told me what happened. What have you gotten yourself into?"

"I swear, I don't know what's going on," Dempsey says. "I would never hurt that woman."

"So why do they think you did?"

The sergeant's eyes drop. "Because I had sex with her."

Elliot's head spins. He takes a deep breath, rubbing at his temples. "You've dug yourself into a hole on this one."

"I know. But you've got to believe me, Elliot, if she told me to stop, I would've! She was into it, I know she was. She even told me to keep going."

"Alright, that's more information than I needed," Elliot grumbles, then clears his throat and says, "I believe you, Shane. We just have to get this mess sorted out. Sit tight while I go talk to the detectives."

He runs straight into Olivia on the other side of the glass. "You're not going to charge him with anything, are you?"

"We found his fingerprints on the door handle and the condom wrapper in the bathroom trash. We're in the process of getting his DNA to match the used condom. We're charging him with rape, Elliot."

"Yeah, but he didn't rape her."

"Why don't you let me handle that? I _am_ the detective, after all."

Elliot takes a deep breath, shifting from one foot to the other. There's anger boiling in his stomach, anger that she could think this about one of his men, but he swallow it down. "What concrete evidence do you have that he raped her? He just said they had sex. I know Shane personally, he couldn't hurt a woman like that."

"I've seen this a hundred times, El. Friends come in here and tell us how great they think a suspect is, how kind and caring, they couldn't hurt anyone, but it turns out to be a lie," Olivia says. "That's the easiest way to explain away a rape, claiming that it was a consensual act."

"How many people have you seen that went to war together? Been through firefights, nearly died?" He scoffs. "You can't even give me concrete evidence that he forced her."

_He has no idea what he's talking about. _"Listen, this is my job. I don't tell you how to do yours, don't tell me how to do mine."

"Maybe someone needs to." Elliot turns, and starts to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going now?" Olivia asks, marching after him. _OH, no, you don't get to say that to me and just walk away!_

"In case you've forgotten," Elliot begins, "I have a job, too. One that I should be getting back to."

The door to the bullpen slams as he makes his exit. Olivia isn't sure what to think; she's never seen him so angry. Come to think of it, she's never seen him angry at all. He's always been so calm, so level. _No! I did nothing wrong, w_here _does he get off marching in here, making demands like this is Pendleton and I'm one of his subordinates?_

_"__Maybe someone needs to." _

_How could he say that to me? Fucking asshole! _She collapses into her chair, shaking her head. _No. No, he couldn't have meant that. Could he?_

"Everything okay?" Raul asks quietly.

Olivia turns to him, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I-I don't know."

Olivia's hand tangled through her hair. She's trying hard to understand, but betrayal is beginning to overwhelm her. He hadn't even said hello. Nor goodbye. Simply stormed in, demanded, then fled, without even a thank you for bending the rules. The man that came stalking into her bullpen wasn't the same one that lived next door.

* * *

Elliot arrives home at the usual time this evening. As soon as he gets out of his truck, he sees Olivia making a beeline for him.

"Listen," she spits, finally reaching him. "I understand you want to protect your friend, but never come into my squad room and start making demands like that again."

"What-

"No, I don't even want to hear it. That was unacceptable. I even bent the rules for you, and I didn't get a thank you for that, nothing. You don't get to do that to me."

"I don't get to do that to you?" he repeats. "Really?_ I_ don't get to do that to _you_? How about the fact that you come onto _my_ base and arrest that sergeant? You couldn't even give a heads up? Have you never heard of professional courtesy?"

"Professional courtesy? I've got news for you, Elliot, Anaheim PD doesn't owe you shit. We don't have to get approval from _anyone_ to make an arrest, including the Corps."

The anger pierces him like a knife. A cloud of red is forming in the back of his mind; he bites his bottom lip to keep from saying something he'll regret, but the words slip through his lips before he can stop them. "You don't owe us shit, huh? You know what, you're right, why don't you and your buddies go over there to those hellholes and do what we do! That sergeant has saved more lives than people you've arrested!" She opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off. "Screw you. And don't you ever come marching over here slinging demands around again."

With that, he turns, fiddles with the key to get inside, and slams the door closed behind him.

Olivia stands in his driveway for a moment, stunned silent. That was the last thing she was expecting… she feels stupid now. What did she expect when she marched over here, for him to just take what she had to say? Even then, she never thought they'd fight like this.

_You should have known this was too good to be true. _

Elliot drops his cap onto his bed, and begins fiddling with his jacket. He's so angry his hands are shaking; as soon as he gets the zipper undone, his fist slams into the bureau. Then again, and again. As his hands pulses with pain, he drops onto the bed, lowering his head into his hands.

_She couldn't even give me a heads up? What the fuck is wrong with her? _

_She's right, she doesn't have to report to anyone when making an arrest. That includes me. _

The anger in his mind is slowly dissipating into regret… what the hell happened? He just wanted to talk to her, how did it escalate so quickly? Getting into a heated argument was the last thought on his mind, all's he wanted to do was have a conversation.

_You let your anger get the best of you. Dumbass! _

Since he joined the Marines, he's had to keep his emotions completely in check. He set up his own personal boundaries and limits, terrified from the beginning that he would one day end up like his father: a violent hair-trigger. All of that seemed to wash down the drain today. He fucked up, and fucked up royally.

"What the hell did I just do?" he murmurs to himself, running both hands over his head. It had taken forever to actually get a chance with her, and he just threw it down the toilet.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please don't hurt me.

Definitely let me know what you guys think, I'm curious :)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	19. Harmony

A/N: Hello, everyone! Would just like to say thanks for all of the comments you guys left me on last chapter. Hopefully this chapter satisfies :) **Oh, and if you didn't notice, the story's rating has turned to 'M'. **Take that as you will.

* * *

A day goes by. That day turns into two, two turns into three. Elliot bangs on her door at least once each of those days. When she doesn't answer, he bangs again, and when his action produces the same result, he sends a text message.

_Liv, we need to talk. _

_Please answer. _

_I'm sorry. _

Nothing, not even a peep.

The fourth day of silence, Elliot's so distracted at work that he nearly fails his first attempt at a yearly rifle qualification. He only gets back on track when Major Cabrera pulls him aside and reams his ass for not paying attention.

The fifth day, he and Murph decide to spar again. Elliot nearly takes his head off before Murph wrestles him to the ground. He asks what the hell Elliot's problem is, but Elliot just shoves him roughly and flees.

He doesn't eat, he barely sleeps. Without her, he feels like a shell. The life is slowly being sucked out of him, how could one person make him feel so miserable? He's desperate, he'd jump on a grenade, shoot himself in the foot, peel his own fucking fingernails off with a set of pliers just to get her to listen to him for even a second.

_I'm in love with her. _

The epiphany strikes him over the weekend, as his forehead rests against the wood of her front door. He's never loved someone like this. Everything that's welling up in his chest- the incredible, unbearable pain, the overwhelming urge to smash the heel of his foot into the door until it flies open- can only mean one thing. He's absolutely in love with her… and she won't even open the door.

_Serves you right, jackass. _

He's sliding to his knees. _How could I be so fucking stupid? _She's never been so far from him than she is now. Hopeless. Insurmountable. Unattainable. The worst part is that he has no one to blame but himself; he's the one that went over the edge. He's the one that knew how precarious her trust is, how easy it would have been to break it, but in that moment, simply… didn't keep his head.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Olivia's there, anger and frustration filling her irises to the brim. Even thought the rage, she's never looked more beautiful to him than she does right now.

Her mood, however, is anything but. "What the hell are you doing out here?" she hisses.

Elliot jumps to his feet. He's had so many responses for her, so many things that he's wanted to say, but now everything is gone. It flew from his mind the instant his eyes laid upon her. "Uh…"

Olivia grabs his arm, and yanks him inside, slamming the door behind her. When they face each other, her arms are crossed and she's staring daggers at him. "I'm getting sick of you banging on my door once a day. You have two minutes to say whatever you need to."

"I-I'm sorry," he stutters. "I-I shouldn't have…"

The anger is replaced with something that he can only describe as exhaustion. "Is that it?"

When he doesn't respond, still too jumbled to gather his thoughts, she sighs. "I forgive you, Elliot."

It's nothing like the way she used to talk to him. It's almost… cold.

"Doesn't sound like it," he murmurs, reaching out to grasp her hand. She flinches away.

"I can't keep doing this with you. After what you said… I have to protect myself. This has to end."

_End. End. End. _His heart shatters. He shakes his head almost violently and swallows the lump in his throat. "No. _No_."_ End. End. End. _"Olivia, don't do this. People have disagreements, that doesn't mean you have to…"

He stops. She's shaking his head, she's having none of this. _End. End. End. _Her mind is already made, and there's nothing he can to to change it.

That doesn't stop him from trying. He swallows again, stepping closer. She backs away. "You said you were happy with me. You said _I make you happy. _Remember that?"

Olivia backs up once more, but she backs straight into the wall. Her throat feels like sandpaper. She wants to scream at him, pound his chest with her fists, ask him how he could ever think he could say that to her, but nothing comes out. All of the strength to speak is gone, and she knows only one thing. She can't allow this to continue with him. She'd opened herself up to him, and look what happened. She's not going to make the same mistake twice.

He's inches from her. All five senses are going to overdrive, everything is just _him. _She sees him. She smells his scent, feels his warm breath on her face, shit, she fucking _tastes _him_. _He's absolutely intoxicating and, no matter how pissed off she is, there's very little she can do to slip out from under his spell.

"I remember it," he murmurs, reaching out to pinch a tendril of her auburn locks between his fingers. Olivia doesn't pull away. He's comforting, soothing, and completely infuriating all at the same time. "And I also remember saying that I'd do anything to keep you happy. That includes _not _letting you run away from this. I'm an asshole, Liv, I know that. What I said was fucked up and I shouldn't have even _thought_ it." His voice drops and she can hear the tears that threaten to spill out. She thinks, _good, that's what he deserves,_ but deep down, she believes anything but.

The doubts are too strong, the instinct to fly as far away as possible are too overwhelming. Olivia takes a deep breath, and says, "I appreciate your apology. I just need some time to think."

His face falls. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes focus on anything in the room besides her. She's sure he's going to fight her, sure he's going to think of something else to say, to try to pull her back in. If he does, she probably won't be able to resist. Instead, he says, "I understand."

When Elliot reaches for her hand this time, she doesn't stop him. He holds it in both of his, so gently she thinks he's afraid it's going to break, and so different from that afternoon in the squad room. He's back to her Elliot now, but it may be too late.

His voice comes in a rasp as he tries to hold the emotion in. "You don't know how sorry I am."

With that, before Olivia can get another word out, he leans down and presses a kiss to her palm. She feels the warm droplet on her skin, but doesn't even get a chance to see it, because he immediately turns, and walks back out the front door._. _

_—__-_

Over the twenty-odd years that Shamus Murphy has known Elliot, there are only two times that he knows of that the Marine has avoided his calls. The first was in fifth grade, when Joe Stabler broke two of his ribs and he wasn't in school for three days. The other is now. After their little scuffle at the gym, Murph gives him time to cool off before calling again, but the phone goes to voicemail each time without a word. Texts do nothing. Hell, the soldier even gets on a computer to send an email, but even that doesn't produce a result. He hates worrying, but that's exactly what he's doing. He's worrying for his friend.

So nearly a week after their sparring incident, he drives over once he gets off from work. Elliot's truck isn't there, so he pulls into Olivia's driveway, intent on getting answers.

The brunette answers the door in a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. As soon as she sees him, she sighs and Murph swears there's defeat in her eyes. "What's up, Murph?"

"Can I come in?" he asks. "I wanna talk to you."

Olivia hesitates, but opens the door further to let him inside. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I'm wondering if you know anything about what's going on with your boyfriend."

"What's going on?"

"Yeah, what's going on. He nearly took my head off a few days ago, and now he's not answering any of my phone calls." The look in Olivia's eyes tells him everything he needs to know. "Uh-oh. What did the bonehead do now?"

"I really don't want to get into it, Murph," she says quietly. "He hasn't been home in a couple of days, I haven't spoken to him. You should come by another day if you want to talk to him."

"I'm more interested in talking to you now. Did he do something stupid?"

Something flashes in Olivia's eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. Once again, she says nothing.

"That's what I thought." Murph leans against the breakfast bare next to her, crossing his own arms loosely as a heavy sigh falls from him. "That's my buddy. Great guy, but sometimes his…_ passion _can get the better of him."

"You should tell him to learn not to be such an asshole."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I've tried once or twice. When he's got his head set on something, there's no changing his mind."

She doesn't answer him, and they're silent for a few long minutes. Murph takes the chance to really look her over, and he doesn't question Elliot's feelings for her. She's absolutely beautiful… soft auburn locks, dark brown eyes, plump lips.

Finally, he blinks hard, and says, "He's absolutely crazy about you, though."

"What?"

"Oh, yeah, I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Like he'll drop absolutely everything just to make you happy."

Olivia scoffs. "He definitely wasn't doing that a few days ago."

"What did he say to you?"

Olivia crosses the room slowly, taking a moment to put the empty glass from the counter in the sink and run some warm water over her hands. Finally, she turns back towards Murph. "Basically that I don't know how to do my job. Oh, and to screw myself."

"Ouch."

"Your great friend barged into my squad room and questioned my ability. He had no idea what he was talking about."

"He must have been really upset about something."

"That's no excuse."

"No, is isn't," Murph says. "But maybe it's better to put yourself in the other person's shoes for a minute. Then maybe you can understand why they did what they did."

A long, pregnant silence comes over them. Murph watches her carefully, but doesn't say anything yet, hoping to God she took some of his words to heart. He hates seeing his best childhood friend in pain, even if it is because he said something stupid. He also quite likes Olivia… She may be trying to hide it, but she looks just as hurt as he imagines Elliot is.

"I wouldn't blame you if you conked him on the head and never spoke to him again," Murph says. "Lord knows he can piss a person off. Just remember what you'd be losing. He's a hell of a guy, I'm sure you know that."

—-

Murph lets himself out while Olivia still stands in the kitchen, arms crossed tightly.

_"__Well, maybe someone should." _

_"__Screw you." _

_"__I'm sorry." _

_"__You said you were happy with me." _

She was happy with him. So happy, protected, loved. He had showed her a side that she's rarely ever seen: a man that doesn't want to use her, one that simply wants to care and be cared for. She got angry that day, too, she made mistakes. She should have spoken with a superior officer, even if it wasn't Elliot. Before they made the arrest, her mind had been screaming for her to do so, but for some reason she just hadn't listened. She thought herself completely innocent, but in reality, how innocent is she? Raging over to his place and yelling at him was just as wrong as what he did. He was calm when he first came into the precinct, though angry and worried for his friend. Isn't his protective nature one of the things that draws her to him? It just so happened that she ended up being on the wrong end of that.

_But who says this won't happen again? _

The look in his eyes when she saw him on her doorstep still haunts her. He'd looked so sad, so defeated. Isn't that punishment enough?

Olivia sighs, running a hand through her hair. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, if he's home, they'll talk.

—-

Elliot isn't home the next day, or even the day after that. Early Friday night, his truck finally makes an appearance in his driveway. He's still wearing his fatigues when he answers the door.

"Hey," he greets. His voice is raspy and drained. There are still bags under his eyes, tired lines cover his face and she wonders if he's even slept since the last time she saw him.

"Hi," she answers. "Can I come in?"

"Sure."

He steps aside, closes the door behind her, and turns, his gaze falling on the floor in front of him. "W'sup?"

"Are you gonna look me in the eye?" she asks quietly. Finally, he does, and she says, "I've done my thinking."

He winces, but nods, and she's sure he thinks she's going to end it. To be honest, she's still not sure what she's going to do. She just knows that seeing him is the only way to ease this pain in her chest. Her heart wants nothing more than to reach out and fall into his arms, but her mind won't allow it.

"Before you say anything," Elliot says, "you weren't wrong for coming over here the other day and speaking your mind, you're not wrong for wanting to kick my ass to the curb. That's exactly what I deserve, exactly…" his voice cracks as he trails off. Olivia swears some of the moisture forming in his eyes is going to break free. He approaches her then, and takes her shoulders in his big, strong hands. "You just have to know… I've been killing myself over what happened, Olivia, trying to figure out… I never wanted to fight with you. I went to the precinct to just talk, to try to tell you the man I know would never rape anyone. I don't know how things got that out of control."

"How can I ever trust you again?" she whispers, her tone betraying her as the sadness shines through.

"I never _ever_ want to cause you pain. I want to be the one to get rid of it." His fingers slip up her neck, and brush along her cheekbone. "I want to be the one to wipe your tears away. To make you laugh, to see that beautiful smile cross your face… seeing you happy is the best feeling in the world, Liv. I need you to forgive me, to _really_ forgive me, because… because…"

He swallows, a tremor overcoming him as he breaks her gaze for a moment. When he looks at her again, his deep blue irises are sparkling, from tears or something else, she's not sure. His forehead drops against hers. His arm slips around her waist, and she doesn't pull away, because she needs this just as much as he does.

"Because I love you."

_"__I love you." _

_"__I love you." _

_"__I love you." _

"You what?" Her voice comes out in a whisper.

"I love you," Elliot repeats. He swallows. "I love you, and I can't let you go."

"You love me?"

He pulls her closer. She's wrapped up in him now, every inch of his body is pressed against every inch of hers. There's shock in her eyes, like she would never expect him to care so deeply about her… _love _her. He's desperate to prove her expectations wrong. "Yes. I love you, Olivia. I'm an idiot, a stupid oaf that can't control his temper sometimes, but… I'll do anything if you'll just give me another chance. I'm begging you."

"Hey," she says tenderly, running her fingers gently from the stubble of a sideburn down his jawline. "You're not an oaf."

Elliot pulls away from her just enough so he can look in her eyes. He searches them for a moment, waiting, wondering. _Are you… gonna forgive me? _

Olivia answers with a soft hand on the back of his head, and brushes their lips together in a light kiss. For a second, he looks at her, amazed, stone still, silently wondering if this means what he thinks it means. He makes a decision quickly, though, and suddenly, she's crushed against his chest. His arms are wrapped so tightly around her she thinks she's going to burst as his tears dampen her cotton t-shirt.

The next kiss they share is everything; it's an apology, a reconciliation, and most importantly, a reassurance. _I'm sorry. I love you. _It isn't slow or languid. It's full of desire, and leaves no room to question what either of them want. Elliot's holding her so tightly against him that her toes are just barely touching the floor as her hands grip his shirt, sending a message: _don't you dare let go. _

He couldn't even if he wanted to. Passion burns in the pit of his belly as her tongue slips teasingly along his bottom lip. He reciprocates with an unceremonious grunt, chasing her tongue back into the recesses of her mouth. She tastes like iced tea, lemon and something completely her own… it's addicting.

He wants to rip her clothes off right here and take her against her front door, but he won't do that. Her skin is hot against his, he can feel her heart pounding in her chest, she's irresistible, but he won't do that.

Elliot lifts her up into his arms, makes his way slowly down the hall, waiting for her to protest, but she doesn't. Her back meets the mattress, his lips meet hers again, and his legs slip between hers. Both of their shirts end up on the floor before the haze of passion in his mind finally lifts slightly. Olivia's laying below him, arms wrapped around his waist, kissing him just as passionately as he's kissing her.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, pulling back for a moment. _Don't tell me to stop._

"I don't want you to stop."

Every cell in his body is absolutely pining for her; she's his light in the dark, water in the desert, shelter in the storm. His hands run along her bare sides, and grins as goosebumps rise on her skin.

"Beautiful," he murmurs. Her cheeks begin to burn; she knows what he sees: cigarette burns and scars. He leans down, and lays his lips against each pucker of skin, each blemish that hasn't had a chance to fade. His lips are soothing, healing, they do something that she never knew was possible. She doesn't feel self-conscious anymore.

"Elliot," she whispers, swallowing back the sob that rises in her throat.

He slides back up her body, smiling as one hand falls to her stomach. Warmth rises in her chest, she knows what it is, but she's not quite ready to admit it yet. She loves him, too. She doesn't know when or how it happened, but she loves him. Finally, she pulls his lips back to hers.

His hands ghost over her stomach, and fiddle with the button of her pants. He gets them down, and his fingertips brush from her calf all the way up to her inner thigh before his arm loops around her waist, pulling her body against his. The rough fabric of his jeans slide over her bare legs.

His lips meet hers, but he goes no further with her. Not yet. He lays over her, his bare chest barely touching hers. She feels vulnerable, but secure, exposed but safe. He makes her into one big contradiction.

When her fingers reach for the button on his pants, there's no hesitation. She unfastens the button, shoves them down, and he finishes the job, kicking them to the end of the bed. The only thing separating them is her lacy panties and his simple white briefs. He grins, finally taking a moment to look her over. "I never pegged you for lace," he murmurs.

"Shut up," she answers, pulling her back down to him. He's more than happy to oblige, slipping his tongue into her mouth and then teasingly pulling away. She answers by gently nipping at his bottom lip.

His hands slide into the back of her underwear, cupping her ass cheeks and pulling her up into him. They both shudder as his length presses against her.

Elliot's hands slide down her legs, bringing the fabric with them. She's laying below him now, absolutely, completely naked. And Jesus Christ, he thought she was beautiful before? Her bronze skin glows, hair spreads over the pillow below her head, legs parted for him as he settles back down above her. Her skin is so smooth it's maddening; every time she brushes up against him, he shivers. She's absolutely the most beautiful, gorgeous, _perfect _thing he's ever laid eyes upon.

He needs to be inside of her. It's not even a question anymore, he absolutely needs to lift her leg a bit higher, scoot just a little bit closer, and… Olivia's hands run down his sides, then grip the last piece of fabric between them. She's the one that finally rids him of it. Her warm hand envelops him, and it's almost too much to handle.

"C'mere," he whispers gruffly, looping his arm around her waist and gently pulling her body against his. The bottoms of her thighs press against the tops of his, her hand falls away from him. He's right there now, pressed right up against her, and with just one simple thrust… he swallows the lump in his throat, exercising all of his military discipline to stay stone still.

"Okay?"

Olivia nods, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him closer. With that simple affirmation, Elliot lifts her leg a little higher around his waist, gives her a gentle peck, and pushes forward. It takes mere seconds for him to bury himself to the hilt, but it feels like an eternity. The sound that falls from her mouth as he slides in deeper nearly sends him overboard. His hand falls away from her thigh, cups her cheek, and presses his lips roughly against hers. She reciprocates with equal passion, locking her legs around him.

Reality falls away from them. Nothing exists anymore; not the past, not the future, just right here, now, as each of his thrusts is met with one of her own, eager, hungry, downright euphoric. Elliot tries to be slow and romantic, he really does, but he's not strong enough, and apparently Olivia isn't, either. She urges him forward, pulling him closer and deeper.

She comes first, moaning as she clutches him tightly, which draws out his own release. Every inch of his body tingles, he clenches his eyes shut, and it's the most wonderful thing he's ever felt.

Elliot holds himself above her for a moment afterwards, simply breathing as his erratic heartbeat calms in his chest. Finally, he slips down beside her and envelopes her in his embrace. She says nothing, simply curls up next to him, eyes fluttering closed as she appreciates the warmth of his bare skin.

He's not all that tired, but he closes his eyes anyways, focusing on the woman beside him, and only her. He thanks God that somehow, the worst week of his life has turned into this.

* * *

A/N: So... does it make up for what I did last chapter? Lol. Hope you guys enjoyed. Looking forward to reading you guys' thoughts.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	20. Growth

A/N: Thought this chapter was going to take longer to come out, but my muse decided to be kind :)

Goddamn, twenty chapters already! Not that big of a milestone, but hey, I only have two others that have made it this far. This one's dedicated to all of my dedicated readers and reviewers who've stuck around thus far. I figured I'd give you guys another fluff-filled chapter after the previous drama. Enjoy!

* * *

Olivia's head rests in the crook of Elliot's arm as she watches his chest rise and fall evenly. After their lovemaking, they fell into a comfortable silence, not quite ready to confront the reality that faced them. Instead, he proclaimed his love for her once more, they laid in each other's arms, and each eventually drifted off. He still sleeps now, eyes closed lightly, arm slung around her waist.

Her fingers brush along his abdomen, the sprinkle of hair that leads from his belly button down, then back up, over his pecks and along his stubbly jawline. There are bags under his eyes, and she immediately thinks of the exhausted, defeated man she was met with just hours before.

_Not yet. Just enjoy this moment for now. _

The last thing she wants to do is wake him. He'd been absolutely perfect. His kisses, the way he wrapped his arm around her as he moved, and brought their lips together just as he knew she was about to climax…

A shiver runs down Olivia's spine. This has been exactly what she's needed. She's not sure how he's known that, or even _if _he's known that. She'll take it either way.

His muscles flex under her fingers as his eyes open."Hey."

"Hey," she parrots as his fingertips slide over her back.

"How're you doing?"

"Good."

Elliot nods once, folding his left arm behind his head as a lazy smile crosses his features. "Good."

They're silent for a long moment before Elliot finally speaks again. "Listen… about the other day, I really am sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

"I wouldn't be in your bed if I couldn't," she answers quietly, letting the pads of her fingers slide over his cheek. "But… you really just have to let me do my job, El. Yes, Raul and I should have spoken to a commanding officer. I understand that, and I'm sorry. But to burst into the squad room like you did…"

"I know," he says. "I know, I just… we go through so much together, Olivia. These guys, the guys that I went on deployment with, they're like my brothers. They're the kind of guys that I trust with… _everything. _And to see one of these guys treated like that… "

"I understand. And it's okay," Olivia says. "How about this. We'll take a closer look at Shane, and next time, if there is a next time, I'll put more faith in your judgement. Fair?"

"Fair." Elliot nods, and rolls her onto her back, taking the spot above her. "Now… about earlier…"

Complete bliss overcomes her as his bare skin caresses hers. Her cheeks hurt from how wide she's smiling. "What about it?"

His hand run over her hip and behind her thigh. "It was… incredible."

She nods, resting both hands on his hips. Her voice comes out in a whisper. "Yeah, it was."

A devilish grin spreads across his face. "I hope we can do it again."

"Oh, you do, huh?"

Elliot shrugs. "Yeah. If that's okay with you, of course."

Olivia shoves him onto his back, and straddles his hips. His hands immediately find their way to her waist as the breath catches in his chest. The soft late afternoon light dances across her skin, making her bare chest almost glow.

When she catches him looking, she frowns, and tries to roll off of him, but his grip on her tightens as he says a soft 'no'. Her cheeks begin to burn as his hand slips up her body and his thumb brushes lightly along her cheekbone. His heart jumps as the chain around her neck glints. Even through their fight, she still wore his necklace. "You're… an angel." He guides her down to him with a hand on the back of her neck. "You're _my_ angel."

"You have to stop complimenting me like this," she whispers, nuzzling his neck. "I'm starting to believe you."

"You should. It's true."

Olivia raises her head so she can look at him. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"I wouldn't tell you that if I didn't."

Her lips crash down on his. He welcomes the kiss, and returns it wholeheartedly, but frowns when he feels warm tears between them. He pulls back, smoothing his hand over her back. "Liv? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she says. "Nothing at all."

And thankfully, it's true. They've managed to survive their hiccup, and that's what's important.

—-

Elliot's not done making things up to her. Over the beginning of the next week, Olivia receives flowers twice and comes home to her lawn mowed and garden watered. When she walks out to her car bright and early Wednesday morning, it's newly washed and waxed, practically sparkling in the sunlight.

Thursday evening, she finds him sitting out back, playing catch with Brutus. The shepherd barks happily and Elliot chucks the ball to the back of his yard, and shoots after it as Olivia slips through the gate to his yard. "Hey."

Elliot glances up, and smiles. "Hey."

Brutus drops the toy next to him, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Elliot picks it up and throws it again. Olivia sits at the end of his lounge chair. "I was wondering if you can help me out. It looks like someone washed my car yesterday morning, did you see anyone with a hose before you left for work?"

"A hose? Nope, I don't think so," Elliot answers, but he's betrayed by the grin spreading across his face. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Oh, well," Olivia sighs. "I guess my search continues."

She goes to get up, but his hand catches her wrist. "Maybe I do know a little something about your car washer."

"Oh, yeah? What?"

"Well, I can't tell you without something in return, can I?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Elliot shrugs, pulling her down towards him. His rough fingers slide lightly over the sliver of skin above her waistband as they share a brief kiss. "How about keeping me company tonight? I've been awful lonely these past few days without my sleeping partner."

She chuckles, dropping her head against his shoulder as she relaxes against his body. "Don't you have to work tomorrow? I don't want to keep you up too late."

"You haven't yet."

"Alright," Olivia says. She's missed his presence beside her just as much as he has.

Elliot smiles, and nods. "Good. Now, have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"C'mon, I'll whip up something." He pats her back lightly. She moves off of him, he takes her hand, and they walk inside.

Olivia sits at the bar and she watches Elliot amble about in the kitchen. "What do you feel like? I've got some ground beef, we can make tacos. Or a stir fry, there's some defrosted steak in here."

"Stir fry sounds good," Olivia says. "But only if you let me help."

Elliot chuckles as he pulls out the steak, onions and peppers. "Alright, you take care of the vegetables. Fair?"

"Fair."

With that, they begin to work. They work in comfortable silence. Olivia cuts up the peppers first, then moves onto the onions. Half of the first one is chopped into slices before Elliot clears his throat, and says, "So, uh-how's the case against my sergeant?"

Olivia bites her lip, setting the knife down on the cutting board. "We took him to trial. Didn't have a choice, there was no evidence that Paulina told us anything other than the truth."

She's slightly nervous about his reaction as their fight comes back into her mind. His head hangs and he stares into the pan of half-cooked steak. His fist tightens around the handle, but he says nothing, simply giving a nod instead. Olivia walks over to him, and places a hand on his back. "Are you okay?"

Elliot turns to her. His arms wrap around her tightly. "Yeah. We'll… just have to wait and see what happens."

"You still believe your guy."

"Of course I do."

Olivia kisses him. "I'm really sorry, El. I wish I could."

"I wish you could, too."

Elliot kisses her forehead, gives her waist a squeeze, and then turns back to his steak, which is sizzling in the pan. Olivia pats his shoulder before returning to work as well.

After pouring the vegetables into Elliot's pan, Olivia sets the table for two, grabs a bottle of water for each of them, then turns the TV on the news. When she returns to the table, he's poured a decent helping of food onto each of their plates. "Bon appétit."

The stir fry is so good that they both end up having two helpings. As Elliot leans back in his chair, Olivia grabs both of their plates to bring to the sink. When she returns, he holds his hand out to her. She takes it, and he stands, guiding her into the living room. "I'll put a movie on. What do you want to watch?"

"Whatever you want," she says, dropping onto the couch.

"The Godfather?" Elliot asks, turning toward her with a grin on his face.

Olivia smiles back, and nods. "Okay."

They don't watch much of it. Fifteen minutes in, Olivia notices Elliot's fingers sliding smoothly over the skin on her arm. She thinks he'll go in for a kiss, so she beats him to it. Her hand reaches for his chin and she turns his head towards her. Her lips come down on his.

Elliot returns it more than willingly. They make out like teenagers throughout the rest of the movie, and by the time the credits roll, it's completely forgotten. He leans back against the couch cushions and Olivia straddles him, hands on the cushions on either side of his head.

Her lips move down his jawline. She nuzzles his neck, smiling as she feels his breathing hitch.

"What're ya doin'?" he mumbles, his arm tightening around her waist.

"Nothin'," Olivia says. She brushes her lips across his neck and down to his collarbone.

Olivia takes his hand as she stands, and guides him down the hall to the bedroom. A grin spreads across Elliot's face as she sits him down on the mattress. He scoots back to the headboard, pulling her along with him. Olivia retakes her position on his lap, and her lips' position on his. Elliot's arm slides around her, pulling her against his chest.

They break apart, Elliot squeezes her bottom playfully, and they both laugh.

"Take this off." Elliot says as his hands run lightly over the fabric of her shirt.

"Only if you take yours off."

He yanks the t-shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor. Her eyes soak in his broad shoulders, the ink on his forearm, then down to his flat tummy. "Your turn."

Olivia's hands grips the fabric, bringing it up slowly… so fucking slowly. Elliot stays still, though, eyes trailing up the skin that's revealed, an inch at a time. Finally, Olivia drops it on the floor next to the bed. Elliot's hands reach out for her, but she catches his wrists, bringing them back down to his sides.

"I wanna take care of you, now," she murmurs, brushing her nose against his.

He doesn't move as Olivia kisses him. Her tongue slides against his bottom lip. She slips off of his lap, and pulls him lightly down the bed until they're both laying on the mattress. Elliot hands itch to reach out and pop the button on her jeans and pull them off of her legs, but he doesn't. She clearly knows what he wants, though, because she scoots back and slips her pants off. He takes the moment to do the same, then groans as Olivia slides back into his lap, the heat of her nearly bare center pressing against him.

His head falls back against the pillow as her lips press against his chest, down his stomach, to the waistband of his underwear. He lifts his hips as she rids him of his final piece of clothing, and his hands travel up her body. She doesn't stop him as he unclasps her bra. His hands run over her breasts, tweak her nipples, and his hips buck against her when he hears the sound she makes. Her panties are the only thing separating them now, and he needs them gone.

Olivia slides off of him, making him groan in disappointment.

"Shh," she whispers. Her hand wraps around him, and she strokes him slowly. His head falls against hers, his hand tangles through her hair.

She can hear his heart thumping in his chest. As her hand moves faster, his breathing does as well. Olivia slithers down his body, coming eye level with him. Her lips meet his tip, and feels him shudder. She wants to take him into her mouth all the way, wants to make him feel amazing, but she's frozen in place.

_"__You like that? I know you want it." _

Her heart's pounding and her blood is roaring in her ears, but not for the reasons she is hoping for. She's frozen again, she's being sucked back down into the darkness that she's worked so hard to overcome.

His hands on her waist is what finally saves her. The pull her upwards, out of the darkness, into the comfort his body offers. His lips are on hers in a deep kiss, and when they break apart, his smile is warm and assuring. "'S okay," he whispers. She doesn't need to explain anything to him, he already knows.

Olivia smiles back, and nods. It takes her a moment to even her breathing back out, which Elliot gives her more than graciously. Finally, she grips his hands, guides them down to her panties, and says, "Take them off."

He looks at her questioningly. "You sure…?"

"I want you," she whispers, her grip insistent as they press his palms into the only fabric left that separates their bodies.

Elliot doesn't need any more convincing. He pulls them down slowly, she shoves them the rest of the way, and straddles him once again. When she lowers herself on him, they both sigh with pleasure. She controls the pace this time, moving slow and languidly, her palms pressed against his chest. On the contrary, his hands are quite active, running over her hips, the back of her legs, her breasts. When they find her nipples again, she moans and comes down on him especially rough.

She can tell when he's about to climax; his breathing hitches, chest heaves, and eyes squeeze shut. She tries to move faster, to send him over the edge, but he says, "_Stop._"

"What's wrong?" she asks, settling on his hips. He's still buried completely inside of her, she can feel his hard hands on the backs of her thighs.

He shakes his head as he pulls her by the back of her neck to his lips, kissing her hard. "I'm not coming until you do."

He takes a deep breath, gains his control back, then begins thrusting again, spurring her back into motion as well. Their pace steadily quickens until the bed moans and groans under their bodies, matching the sounds emanating from each of them.

As much as Elliot tries to hold back, he starts to fall over the edge once again, but doesn't have the strength to stop her this time. His hands grip her waist, slam her down on him, and the motion sends both of them spinning.

The next thing she knows, she's laying against his chest trying to catch her breath. One of Elliot's arms wrap around her, and the other pulls the blanket over their spent bodies.

"I love you," he whispers.

Olivia raises her head, looks into his eyes, and smiles. She caresses his cheek gently as love swells in her chest. He's the only one that's ever made her feel this way.

A hand runs over her back as her eyes close. His touch on her skin and the steady drum of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

—-

Olivia's peaceful sleep is broken by the screeching of an alarm. Her confusion only lasts a millisecond before the events of the previous night come back to her. _I'm at Elliot's place. I'm in his bed. _The hard lump beneath her stirs, his hand comes down on the 'off' button, and he yawns, arms tightening around her. She nuzzles his neck, a tired smile coming across her face. "Mornin'." _What a great sight to wake up to. _

"Hey, there," he greets gently. His lips press against her forehead. "How're you doin'?"

"Tired."

She feels his chest rumble with laughter. He pats her back. "Lemme up and you can go back to sleep."

Olivia frowns. She wants to snuggle further into his chest and just go back to sleep with him, but rolls off his chest instead, allowing him up. He slips out of bed, still completely naked. Her eyes follow him as he ambles to his dresser, opens drawers to get some clothes, then slips into the bedroom.

Olivia drifts in and out until he reenters the bedroom, dressed only in his fatigue pants, hair damp from his shower and freshly shaven. Brutus bounds in next to him, tail wagging, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Elliot murmurs an apology as he turns on the bedside lamp, but she shakes her head as she watches him. He pulls one of his plain forest green t-shirts over his head, tucks it in, then sits on the chair in the corner to put on his boots. The sleeves on his jacket are already crisply rolled when he slips it on and zippers it.

"I ever tell you how good you look in that uniform?" she mumbles.

He smiles at her, and leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I already reset the alarm for you. Go back to sleep, you've still got a couple hours."

"Kay," she murmurs, holding him there for another moment for another kiss. "Have a good day."

"You, too, baby." He pats the empty bed beside her.

Her heart jumps at the pet name, even through the tired haze in her mind. Olivia gives him a lazy, one-arm hug, one last kiss and falls back against the pillows, watching him flip the light off and walk out of the bedroom. As she drifts back off, Brutus jumps into bed beside her and give her face a lick.

"I don't think your master would be happy 'bout this," Olivia mumbles, but doesn't have the heart to tell him to get off. She falls back to sleep easily with his essence still surrounding her and his best friend curled up against her. This bed is becoming her second home, and she couldn't be happier.

* * *

A/N: Awwww... isn't your heart just fuzzy? Haha. Loved writing that last scene. Next... well, shit, I don't even know what's going to happen next. Murph and Casey will make another appearance, and share a scene or two together ;)

As always, please let me know what you guys thought :)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	21. Friends

A/N: Hey, everyone. The coming stretch for this story has been a real bitch for me to get down, so that hopefully explains the lack of update. I'm trying my best, though, and I think I've pretty much gotten the rest down. Hopefully you all enjoy it.

* * *

After formation Wednesday morning, Elliot makes a point to visit the barracks. He bangs on the same door that gave him a shock that morning several weeks ago during Field Day and Shane opens it, dressed in civilian clothing rather than a uniform. "Gunny."

Elliot steps into the room. "How're you doing?"

"Not good. They put me on indefinite leave," Shane says. "I didn't even _do_ anything! How can they do this to me?"

Elliot takes a deep breath, thumbing the brim of his cap for a moment. His eyes flit from the desk on the wall opposite of him, the window with the blinds halfway closed, then the floor that's completely immaculate. Finally, he says, "If there's something you're not telling me, you need to tell me now. I believe you, I do, but that woman was raped."

Shane bites his lip, turning away from Elliot's gaze. "There's nothing, Gunny. All's I know is that we had sex, there's nothing else."

"Why don't you stop lying and tell me the truth?" Elliot says. His blood pressure is rising by the second; this whole thing is really growing tiring. "Do you realize what's at stake here? She didn't say you had sex. She said that she didn't even invite you to her place, she said you broke into her apartment, knocked her out and _forced yourself on her_."

"That didn't happen!"

"Then tell me what did!"

Shane's jaw clenches. He wipes his hands off on his jeans and collapses onto onto the chair next to the desk. Elliot crosses the room, leans against the desk, and folds his arms over his chest, examining the younger man. He can see the conflict on Shane's face.

"Whoever you're protecting _assaulted_ and _raped_ a woman. You think a scumbag that could do that deserves your loyalty?"

"B-but…"

"But nothing. It's not worth throwing your career away. Just spit it out, Shane."

Shane finally looks up at Elliot, scrubs his hands over his face and says, "Thompson was with me that night."

"Okay. And?"

"Me and her were talking all night, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, either. He kept telling me how sexy she was and he was gonna go home with her. We, uh- when the bar shut down, she asked me to come with her. I told Thompson what was going on, and he looked fuckin' furious. When I got back to base afterwards, he still wasn't back."

"Why didn't you tell anyone this earlier?"

"I didn't want to get him into trouble." Shane pales. He scrubs his face with his hands. "Shit, I… I just wanted to protect my brother."

Elliot shakes his head as he massages his temples. _This is exactly why I would never want to be a cop. _"Alright. You've got to make this right, Shane."

"How?"

He nods towards the door. "C'mon."

—-

Olivia has court that morning. When she returns, there are two men men waiting for her at her desk. One's Elliot, dressed in his uniform with his cap in his hand. The other is Dempsey, standing there uncomfortably with no uniform.

"Elliot," she says as she meets them. "What are you doing here?"

"Shane has something he wants to tell you."

Olivia turns to the man. "Alright, what is it?"

"I didn't rape Paulina," Shane says, "but I think I know who might have. I was with my buddy, Luke Thompson when I went to that bar, and… he was the one that was all over her. He told he he was going to get her into bed one way or another."

"So you're telling me that you had sex with her, and then your buddy came along afterwards and raped her? Why should I believe that?"

"Because it's the truth. I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier, but… I didn't think he could have done this."

Elliot must see the doubt in her eyes, because he takes her by the arm and guides her away. "You're not buying this."

"It's kind of hard to, El," she murmurs. "It sounds like he's using any excuse he can to explain away what he's done."

"Really? Because, to me, it sounds like a guilty man trying to make things right. Remember what you told me? If this happens again, you'd take a closer look." Elliot sighs, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Listen, Liv, you know me. If I thought Shane could rape that girl, I'd be the last person coming here to defend him. Please, just give him a chance." Olivia watches his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard, and mumbles, "Give _me_ a chance."

"Elliot…"

She stops short as his hands pull her closer. "Olivia."

As much as Olivia would like to write this confession off as a desperate attempt from a guilty man, she doesn't have a choice in the matter. His eyes plead with her, and she can't help the pang that shoots through her heart. She can't help it when her hand rises to palm his cheekbone. The words are on the tip of her tongue, the same ones that have been on her mind since he said them after their fight, but they won't come out. It's not the right place or time, and even if it was, she's not sure she could say them, anyway.

"I'll see what I can do." These words sound like a far cry from the three that she's thinking about, but they're the closest she can come.

Elliot's arm wraps around her waist, and he pulls her into a kiss. Embarrassment floods her face as she pushes him away. "Elliot! I'm at work."

"Thank you," he says. "You're not going to regret this, I promise."

—-

Bravo is just as empty as the first time. The same bartender stands behind the bar, washing glasses, humming a tune to himself.

"Hola, mama," he greets. "Back again?"

"I just have a couple more questions for you," she says. "Have you seen this man?"

It's a picture of Thompson.

"Sí, he's the one that was with that girl. What did you say her name was?"

"Paulina."

"That's right. He was with Paulina."

"And what about this man?" It's Dempsey this time.

"Hm. Come to think of it, he was there, too."

"I know you said you don't remember if Paulina left with someone. But do you know if either of these men with her?"

"It couldn't have bee him," he says, pointing to Thompson. "He left a little bit later, looking pissed."

—-

Paulina opens the door, and her arms cross over her chest. "Detective Benson. What can I do for you?"

"I really have to ask you a couple of questions, Paulina," Olivia says. "Can I come in?"

She steps aside, and closes the door behind the detective. "Okay."

"When you left Bravo, you said you were alone."

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Olivia takes a deep breath, and steps closer. "You know, if there's anything you're not telling me, you don't have to hide it. You can tell me the truth, no matter what happened."

"I told you exactly what happened. The man from the club broke into my apartment and raped me. He never told me his name."

"How did you know it was the man from the club?" Olivia asks, but Paulina doesn't answer. Her arms cross over her chest and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.

"I know you were attacked, Paulina. I know you're scared and that's okay. But the only way you'll ever be able to feel better is if you tell me the whole truth. You tell that to me and I will do absolutely everything in my power to send that man away for a very long time. I promise."

Tears form in Paulina's eyes. She wipes them away with her fingers. "You don't understand," she whispers. "He told me that…"

"What did he tell you?" Olivia takes Paulina's hands in her own and sits on the couch with her. "Did he say he was going to hurt you again?"

Paulina sniffles as the tears run down her cheeks. She nods. "H-he told me that h-he would kill me if I e-ever told anyone. H-he would rape me again and again u-until I a-asked him to die."

"Who was it, Paulina?" Olivia asks gently, squeezing her hands.

Paulina chews on her lip, breaking eye contact with the detective across from her. "I took Shane home after I left Bravo. We had sex, he left right after, and… I was asleep when the man came in. He shoved a pillow over my head, he pinned me down, a-and… tore at my clothes… he put a knife to my throat and told me that if I moved an inch or made a sound… he would slice my throat. A-and then, right before he left, he told me that he would know if I called the police, and he would come back."

"Did you see the knife?"

Paulina nods. "I-it was black, with a golden logo on it. It looked like a globe with an anchor… almost like the logo for the Navy."

"And you're sure it wasn't Dempsey?"

Paulina nods. "I'm positive. That man… he was nothing like Shane."

—-

It takes Elliot about thirty seconds to answer the door later that night. There's a dish towel slung over his shoulder and he smells like soap. "Hey."

"Hey," she says as he leans forward to give her a kiss before inviting her inside. She takes a moment to look around. In the kitchen, half of the dishes are drying on a dish towel, and the others are still in the sink, waiting to be washed. Elliot drops the towel onto the counter.

"Want something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay," They sit down on the couch. "Just wanted to let you know that you were right."

"Right?"

"You were right about Shane."

Elliot's silent. He mulls over Olivia's statement for a long moment, and then nods, meeting her eyes. "So it was Thompson."

"Yeah. He confessed and all."

He nods, then reaches for her hand. "Good. I'm glad you got the guy. The _right_ guy."

Olivia leans over, wraps her arms around him, and squeezes. Her head falls against his shoulder as they embrace. "Thank you. If it weren't for you…"

Elliot pats her back as he holds her. "I'm sure you would have figured it out."

"Maybe." She sets her head against his shoulder, sighing in almost relief as her body sinks into his. No matter how many times she's been in his arms, it always seems like the first. As corny as it sounds, his body feels like home, a place where she always protected, always loved. That word is back in her throat, dying to be released as that familiar pang in her heart hits her. It's the right place, and most certainly the right time. "I gotta tell you something."

"What is it?" he asks.

She raises her head, and looks into his eyes, those eyes that hold nothing but love and adoration for her. Her hand trails down his cheekbone, then back up as a smile crosses her face. "I love you."

His eyes light up like a kid's on Christmas, and Olivia's heart melts a little. She'd do almost anything to keep that look in his eyes… his happiness makes her happy; she figures that's what love is all about. "Love you, too."

—-

The sun beats down on him as he stretches out on the beach blanket. His gaze hits her toes, painted deep red. A smile twitches across his lips… he never thought he could see _toes_ being sexy, but that's exactly what he thinks right now. Everything about her is beautiful, sexy, alluring. Her smooth, bronze legs, the black swimsuit that flows over her stomach, revealing just a sliver of skin, teasing him, her thin shoulders with just enough tone, and yes: her red toes. What he loves the most about her, though, is her eyes. They're deep, big and brown… his heart jumps and he can't help as his hand runs gently over her thigh.

She glances up at him from the pages of her book, and smiles. "Can I help you?"

"No," he says, studying her face. "You're really beautiful."

Her face turns red. "Remember what I told you about compliments?"

"Yup. You also told me if I keep giving 'em to you, you'll believe me." His fingertips slide up her body, then her thumb glides over her cheekbone. He turns on his side, then slips a little closer to her. He wants to lean forward and kiss her, but they're in the middle of the beach, people surrounding them on all four sides. Instead, he settles for a quick one on the forehead.

"God, you two are disgustingly sweet."

Elliot and Olivia both laugh. Elliot turns towards the redheaded ADA, grin on his face. "Sorry, Case." He checks his watch. "Murph should be here soon." He gets up, stretches, and says, "Gonna take a trip to the restroom. You ladies need anything?"

They both decline, and he nods, giving Olivia one last smile before he heads towards the snack bar a few hundred yards up the shoreline.

"So, tell me about this friend of Elliot's."

"His real name's Shamus, but I don't think he likes it. We all call him Murph instead," Olivia says. "He's a great guy. When I was having that fight with Elliot, he came over and made sure I was okay. I told you he's in the Army, right?"

"Yeah, you told me he's in special forces, like Elliot."

"Yeah. He's pretty hot, too."

Casey laughs. "I'll be the judge of that when he gets here."

"I think you'll like him."

When Elliot returns, another man stands beside him, in green trunks and a white sleeveless t-shirt. Casey's heart jumps; Olivia was right, he is handsome.

"Hi, Olivia." Murph's gaze focuses on the lawyer as a smile forms on his face. "You must be Casey."

"You must be Murph." She shakes his hand lightly. "Nice to meet you."

"Believe me, the pleasure is mine."

Elliot sits back down beside Olivia with a breath, and stretches out next to her, returning to his admiration. Casey rolls her eyes playfully, but her heart pangs in her chest. It's so clear how devoted the man is; she's so incredibly happy for Olivia, she's one of the most deserving people that Casey's ever known. She hopes she'll find a man that treats her the way Elliot treats Olivia.

"God, they're sickening, aren't they?" Murph says, dropping onto Casey's blanket.

"You're the one that told me to give the man another chance," Olivia says. "You're partly to blame for this."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go back to ogling," Murph says, a shit eating grin covering his face. He turns to Casey. "So, Elliot told me you're a lawyer."

"I'm a prosecutor in Anaheim," Casey says. "How's military life?"

Murph shrugs. "Chaotic at times. Can't imagine myself doing anything else, though."

"How long have you been in?"

"About thirteen years."

"Not as long as Elliot, huh?"

"Nah, I joined a couple years after he did. He doesn't let me forget it."

Casey laughs.

—-

Elliot hears Casey's laugh, and takes Olivia's hand. "C'mon, let's hit the water. I'm drying up like a prune out here."

Olivia sighs playfully. "And you've spent how many months out in deserts?"

"That's why I have to take all the opportunities I can get now," Elliot answers, pulling her to her feet.

They walk down to the shoreline, dip their toes into the water and Olivia steps backwards. "Too cold."

"Oh, c'mon," he says, pulling her along with him. She doesn't give much of a fight, wading up to her waist with him. With a deep breath, he dives under the water and stays under for a moment, letting the water roll over him, cool, crisp and refreshing.

When he comes back up, his gaze is drawn to the shoreline. At the blankets they set up earlier that day, Casey and Murph lay, looking quite engaged in conversation. "You were right, they do look good together."

She paddles slowly over to him. "I told you."

He examines the two for a long moment before finally turning back to her. "Better than us?"

"Nah."

He chuckles, lowering himself back down into the water. He leans forward, kisses her, and smiles when he tastes the salt on her lips. "I didn't think so, either."

* * *

A/N: As always, thanks for reading :) Leave me your thoughts, looking forward to reading what you have to say.


	22. Change

A/N: Hey, everyone. Here's the next chapter:

* * *

The days of summer quickly pass her by. Olivia can't remember the last time she's been this happy, not just in a relationship, but her life. As the days go on, she finds her time without Elliot by her side dwindling smaller and smaller.

Her favorite times have to be when they just sit and do nothing at all, as strange as that may sound. During these times, sitting on either his couch or hers, she finds herself pinching herself to make sure she's awake or running her hand over his chest or the fine hairs on his arms, just to make sure he's real. The way he holds her and speaks to her, it's like he believes she's the only thing in the world, or at least the only thing that matters. She's never felt like this before in her life, and she never wants to go back to before him.

He even clears out a drawer for her in his bedroom. She laughs at him when he does that, asking why she needs a drawer when she lives just ten steps away. In spite of that, though, she finds herself stowing away a pair of pants or two, the Marine Corps sweatshirt she stole from him, and a few other necessities, just in case. His bed quickly becomes her preferred spot to sleep, sometimes even when he's not in it with her, thanks to the spare key he gives her in the middle of August, with an offering: _use it whenever. _She takes him up on his offer without hesitation, especially during a long period of training or on nights where Elliot works so late that sleeping on base becomes the only reasonable option. As much as Olivia says she doesn't need him around all the time, sleeping in his bed when he's not there gives her a sense of security almost akin to when he, himself, is next to her. It might be childish, but she thinks, _what could possibly happen to me here? _

Summer fades into fall. Their weekend excursions to the beach and short sailboat rides turn into hikes at Crystal Coves and chilly nights made warm cuddling up in front of the fire pit in Elliot's backyard. Sometimes Casey and Murph (who've been growing quite close, Olivia's noticed) join them, other times they just take the opportunity to hold each other close, talk about their day or kiss languidly, then whisking each other away to the bedroom as the ambers die.

One of Olivia's favorite memories is the night Elliot set out a blanket just as the stars came out and convinced her to lay beside him. Neither of them know much about constellations, but that didn't stop them that night, pointing out what could be the Big Dipper, the North Star, even a few of the tougher ones: Orion, Cancer, Leo. They ended up falling asleep on the blanket, just like that, and woke up just as the sun began to rise above the clouds, the blanket under them wet with morning dew. As they cleaned up, Elliot mentioned a yearly tradition in the Marines, the Marine Corps Ball, and asked her if she'd like to go with him.

Of course, she said yes, and that's what Olivia is preparing for now. She's in front of the mirror in her bedroom, applying a layer of mascara. Just as she finishes, there's a solid knock on her door.

When she opens it, her jaw nearly drops. Elliot stands on her front stoop, arms clasped in front of him. He's wearing his Marine Corps dress blues: sky blue pants with red stripes down the sides, a midnight blue jacket with a white belt, hat and gloves.

Somehow, he's standing even taller and prouder than usual. When he sees her, his heels click together, his arm raises in a stiff salute, and his eyes twinkle. "Good evening, Miss Benson," he greets. "Gunnery Sergeant Stabler reporting as your escort."

She steps out onto the stoop with a playful roll of her eyes. "Y'know, you have a key. You can just come in."

Elliot's heart jumps. He'd take her voice over that of his Master Gunnery Sergeant every day of the week. She looks beautiful tonight; the red dress she wears reaches the floor, and the few red sequins make it almost shimmer in the light. It's elegant, but not flashy. Perfect for her.

Elliot offers her his hand, and she takes it as they walk down the driveway to his truck. "I know. I had to meet you on the stoop for this one. It's a special occasion, y'know."

While he drives, he keeps his gloves on the dashboard, and takes quick glances at her, smiling. This woman is completely gorgeous, and he's lucky enough to have her sitting beside him.

"You look beautiful tonight." The words tumble out his lips before he can stop them.

"Thanks. I've never been to one of these things, I wasn't sure…"

"Don't worry, it's perfect."

They drive the familiar route down to the main gate of Camp Pendleton, where many Marines and dates are already filing into the South Mesa Club. Olivia links her arm through his with a smile.

They're stopped three or four times before they even make it through the door by younger Marines introducing their dates to 'Gunny'. After the last Marine, who couldn't be older than nineteen, walks away with his date, Olivia finally asks, "Why do they call you that?"

"Hm?"

"Gunny."

"Tradition," Elliot says as they walk through the door. He takes a moment to scan the room, and finally, his eyes light up in recognition. "C'mon, I want you to meet someone."

The man they walk towards is tall and bald. He holds his white cap in his hands as he speaks jovially with two other Marines. On his uniform, there are three chevrons and four rockers on each shoulder, and when he turns, Olivia immediately notices the amount of medals pinned to his chest. Jesus, it looks like he's been in every conflict in the past twenty years.

"Hey, Master Guns. I've got someone for you to meet," Elliot says as they reach him.

A smile spreads across the man's face. "Hey! This must be the girl that Gunny can't stop talking about."

Olivia laughs as she sees the tint of red form on Elliot's cheeks. He clears his throat, and says, "Right. Olivia, Master Gunnery Sergeant Garrett Duncan."

"Nice to meet you, Olivia." Garrett says, shaking Olivia's hand firmly. "Gunny told me you were beautiful, but words don't do you justice. It's a pleasure."

"Thank you," Olivia says as warmth rises in her chest. She doesn't know what it is about this man, but he just seems to put her at ease with his friendliness. "The pleasure is mine."

Garrett gives the back of her hand a pat, then steps back, returning his gaze to Elliot for a moment. "First round of drinks are on me, what are two two drinking?"

"Two beers. Thanks."

"No problem. The Missus is sitting right over there."

"Good guy," Olivia comments as they walk towards the table, where a beautiful blonde dressed in a black dress sits alone, sipping at a glass of water.

"Mhm," Elliot agrees. "I've known him for, Jesus, over ten years now. He's been… he's really helped me out over the years."

"Helped you out, how?"

Elliot stops her, and takes a deep breath, considering his next words carefully. "Y'know, this job… it's really tough. He's helped me through quite a bit that otherwise… I don't know I could have gotten through. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

Elliot nods, then relinks their arms as they close the distance between them and the table.

The slight unease that came with being in a new place with new people quickly disappears from Olivia's stomach as she sits with Elliot. Along with Garrett and his wife, Julianna, Major Cabrera joins them with what Elliot calls his 'most recent conquest', a short, cute Latina with wavy dark brown hair and heels that Olivia thinks would probably break one of her ankles if she tried wearing.

After dinner, Elliot stands and offers Olivia his hand, "May I have this dance?"

"Oh, I guess so," she says, smiling as she takes his hand. It's the first time they've ever slow danced… she doesn't think either of them are much of dancers, but on this dance floor, it's different. His strong arm slips around her waist, she finds her own wrapping around his shoulder as their fingers interlace. His light cologne wafts through her nose, drawing her closer as she breathes him in.

Elliot releases the one arm he has on her waist, spins her gently, then pulls her back against his chest. She chuckles. "Got some moves, there, huh?"

His chest rumbles with laughter. "I'm not totally clueless, y'know."

Olivia smiles as her eyes flutter closed for a second, just relishing this moment, stamping it in her memory as never to be forgotten. Here, she undoubtedly feels like she's home.

—

It's after midnight when Elliot opens his front door for Olivia. He slips his cap off, and places it onto the table as he watches her slips out of her heels. God, he still can't believe how absolutely stunning she is in that dress.

His hands reach out on their own accord to run gently over her bare shoulders, then down her sides to draw her closer to him. His lips then fuse to hers. Olivia hooks her index finger into his white belt and guides him down the hall towards the bedroom. As soon as they enter, Elliot flips the bedside lamp on, filling the room with a soft, ambient glow.

"Well, I know what's on _your_ mind," he says, reaching behind her head to let down her loose chignon. Her hair falls back loosely to her shoulders and the breath catches in his chest. Jesus, she's beautiful.

"Don't tell me it's not on yours," she answers, fusing their lips together once again.

A low growl emanates from his throat as Elliot pulls Olivia closer. Suddenly, the uniform he wears is just too constricting on his body.

"Never said it wasn't," he rumbles between kisses. His hands leave her hips to fumble with the gold belt buckle. As soon as he gets it undone, Olivia begins struggling with the ornate, oversized buttons of his jacket. He chuckles, and completes the task for her, unbuttoning the jacket, slipping it off of his shoulders and tossing it onto his dresser. The metal pinned to it makes a loud _clank_ as it hits the wood.

Now, in just the thin white t-shirt Elliot wears, he works at the zipper of her dress. Her breasts are crushed against his chest, driving him absolutely crazy. God, he needs her.

Finally, the zipper comes down and the dress falls to her ankles. Elliot takes a look at her, and he groans as his eyes catch what she's wearing: a black strapless bra and matching panties that seem like they were tailor made to fit her body.

"Jesus, woman, are you trying to kill me?" he mumbles, crushing her body close to his.

"Maybe," she answers.

"C'mere," he says, hauling her up into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist, he walks her to the bed and they collapse onto the mattress.

—

Elliot wakes up later that night, tangled in the sheets and Olivia's soft, naked body. He smiles, leans down to give her a gentle kiss, then slips out of bed slowly. He pulls on the sky blue pants he wore earlier that night, then heads out to the kitchen to grab a drink of water. It soothes as it runs down his throat. That evening plays over in his mind, sending a smile across his face. She'd been a great sport, meeting many of the people he works with and even laughing with Garrett after he ended up getting hammered (just like the previous three or fours years). Elliot chuckles as he cracks his neck and sips on his water. One of these days, Julianna's gonna get sick of hauling his drunk ass back home.

There's shuffling coming from down the hall. Olivia appears, wearing his white t-shirt her black panties. "What're you doing up?" she murmurs.

Elliot shrugs, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her body to his. "Just thinkin'."

"Bout what?" she asks, sending shivers down his spine as her nails rake over the skin on his back.

He leans in for a kiss. "How glad I am that you came tonight. And that you stayed."

Olivia smiles as she takes his hand and guides him back into his bedroom. Elliot drops his pants back down before rejoining Olivia in bed. His hands close around the hem of the t-shirt, wishing more than anything to feel her bare skin against his once again. Olivia helps him get it back over her head, and he pulls her body close. Just her against him is making him harden once again; after the months they've been together, she turns him on more than ever.

"I want you," he whispers, running his hand over her stomach as he spoons her. Her body is soft and warm against his, comforting.

"So take me."

His fingers slide down her body to her core, and her legs open for him. He grins as he feels how ready she is for him.

His hand slides under her thigh, pulls up, and he suckles at her neck as he buries himself inside of her.

Jesus, he feels amazing inside her like this, rocking into her from behind. His hands explore her body, running over her stomach, tweaking her nipples, then teasing her clit mercilessly.

"Elliot," she moans, thrusting backwards to meet him. She turns her face to kiss him. It's a little sloppy, but it manages to turn her on even more. He's driving her closer and closer to the edge with no signs of slowing. She doesn't want him to slow.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs. "Come for me."

His raspy voice makes her moan aloud. God, he knows exactly what to do to drive her absolutely crazy. He grinds deeper, holding her to him with one hand and circling her clit with the fingers of his other, and finally, it's too much. She flies over the edge, moaning his name as her hips buck against him. His arm tightens around her and the sounds that come from his mouth bring her to an entirely new level.

In the aftermath, Olivia turns in his arms and kisses him gently on the lips. They fall asleep just like that, foreheads together, bodies tangled.

—

The next Friday night, Elliot arrives home early, a migraine drumming in the back of his head.

"What a fucking day," he mumbles to himself, dropping the white envelope in his hand onto the table.

_I have to tell her. How am I gonna tell her? _

He cracks open a beer. It might take him a couple before he can sit Olivia down and tell her the information inside that envelope… He swallows a big gulp, and sits on the couch, taking a deep breath. Well, he's going to have to figure it out fast, because she'll be over soon.

The door opens about twenty minutes later. Olivia's already changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and there's a six pack of beer in her hand. "Hey."

"Hey," he greets as she leans over to plant a kiss on his lips. "I haven't ordered yet, there are a few menus on the table."

"Okay," she says. "What do you feel like?"

"Whatever, you pick." In reality, he doesn't think he'll be able to eat much. There's a bomb he's just waiting to drop, and he's afraid of what the results are going to be. They've never talked about this before. He's cursing himself now, because now he's about to blindside her. Things have been going absolutely fantastic… Jesus Christ, this is going to suck.

"How about Chinese? We haven't had that in a while."

"Sounds good."

He lets her order and pick out their first movie. When she sits beside him, he wraps his arm around her shoulders and holds her close. After dinner, he thinks. He'll tell her after dinner. There's no use ruining her appetite now.

The food arrives. They eat in comfortable silence, commenting only occasionally on the food or movie they're watching. When they finish, Elliot throws away the trash, gets them both another beer and pops in another movie. He wants to speak, but it's as if his mouth is full of cotton. He remains silent, cursing himself in his mind.

Finally, Olivia picks up the remote and turns off the movie. "Okay, what's going on?"

"Huh?"

"You've been acting weird all night. What's the matter?"

Of course she would notice; he can't hide anything from her. Elliot takes a deep breath, scoots away just a bit, and turns his body so he can look her directly in the eye. "Liv... We have to talk."

"About what?"

"I-I don't know how to tell you this..."

Olivia's face falls. She scoots even further away, slipping out of the grip he has on her hand. Suddenly, she won't look him in the eye. "Just say it."

She's pulling away from him. He feels even worse about what he's about to tell her. What's going through her mind right now? His mouth opens, but once again, nothing comes out. Why is this so fucking hard?

"Don't bother, then. I know what you're going to say," she murmurs, standing. "I'll just go get my stuff and get out of your hair."

"What?" Her hurt is palpable, as is his confusion. _What the hell is she talking about?_

"I should have guessed you wouldn't want to stick around for too long," Olivia says, crossing her arms over her chest as she avoids his gaze, "I-I just thought... maybe I'd get to have you..." She shakes her head as the words die in her throat.

Suddenly, it all makes sense. Elliot stands, and sweeps her into his arms before she can get a chance to escape. "No, no, no," he whispers in her ear as he squeezes her tightly. "You've got it all wrong, Liv. Leaving you is the furthest thing from my mind."

He pulls back slightly, and plants a passionate kiss on her. "I'm yours. Don't you ever question that, okay? It's gonna take a crowbar to pry me away from you."

She looks up at him, relief in her eyes. Her arms have made their way around him, and she's holding him just as tightly as he's holding her. "Jesus, Elliot, don't ever do that to me again."

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "Should have chosen my words more carefully."

"Now will you tell me what's going on?"

He's back to square one now. Elliot takes a deep breath, guides her back onto the couch, and grips her hands in his. Before he gets the chance to change his mind, to stop himself, the dreaded words tumble from his lips:

"I'm being deployed."

* * *

A/N: Just hoping PaperFrames doesn't find me and kill me. If I don't update within two weeks, send a search party. Oh, and review for an early peak of Olivia's reaction. You know you want to.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	23. Depart

A/N: Hello, everyone! I'm on a roll, so here's the next chapter. Thanks to PaperFrames, who helped me out on this one.

This chapter is dedicated to all those at home who service men and women have to leave behind.

* * *

_"__I'm being deployed."_

"Deployed?"

Olivia's heart is pounding in her chest. Her stomach sinks as the world spins around her. She has to be dreaming, right? Any second, she's gonna wake up and this moment will have all been in her head.

That doesn't happen. _What did you think this was gonna be, Liv? He would go to work at the base and come home every day for his entire enlistment? _

Marines are deployed. Marines leave and fight and…

He said it himself, his job is dangerous. She'd known that. So why won't this utter disbelief leave the pit of her stomach? Why won't this hazy fog- the kind that makes her think she's dreaming- fade? This isn't a dream, this is real.

Elliot is leaving her. It's not in the way that she thought just a few minutes ago, but somehow, this is worse. Deployment means fighting. Fighting means death. Death means losing him.

She can't lose him. Then again, she can't be one of those millions of wives and girlfriends that sit at home, either. Waiting. Worrying. Waiting. For what? For him to come home in a pine box?

Bile rises in her throat at just the thought. _Stop, stop, stop. _But it's too late, the picture of him - pale and cold - has already hit her all too hard.

"I just need to… I need to take a walk."

"Olivia." His hand catches hers. "Just talk to me."

The room around her is suffocating. His presence is choking her, she just needs to get away from him for a moment to make sense of the mess in her head. _Deploying. He's leaving me. _

"Elliot, please," she whispers hoarsely. "I need to…"

Olivia pulls away from his grip and she's out the door before he can get another word out.

The door slams closed and Elliot almost flinches. _That's it. She's gone. _

It's gonna be okay. She just needs some air, some time to process this. They never talk about it, what did he expect her reaction to be? Elliot wishes they had. Maybe if he told her that deployment was not only probable, but an unavoidable guarantee, she wouldn't be so shocked now.

Brutus trots up, sits, and gives a whine, staring at Elliot with big brown eyes.

"Go away, boy," he mutters, shoving him gently. "I'm not in the mood."

He's been deployed a dozen times. The emotions, for him, haven't changed, they've turned into nothing more than a process. It seems like everything in his life is nothing more than a process. Everything, that is, except for her. She's the variable that he just can't seem to predict. Tonight, he thought that he'd hold her close, convince her that it would be okay and then spend as much time as he can with her. He should have known that would be the furthest thing from reality.

This is familiar, but so unfamiliar, his life with her. He wishes more than anything that he could protect her from it; he doesn't want her to know what it's like to see him leave, to think every moment that he would never come back, not by choice, but because he can't.

Elliot sighs and scrubs the heels of his palms over his face. He needs another beer.

It's chilly out. Olivia sits on the bench in front of her house, arms crossed over her chest, not wanting to go inside, but not wanting to go back next door, either.

_"__I'm being deployed." _

_"__Deployed." _

_"__Deployed." _

How can this be happening? How can he leave her like this?

_You knew this was coming. He's a fucking Marine, what the hell were you expecting? His whole job is to go over and fight, and that's what he's doing. _

Fire bubbles in the pit of her stomach, but what's directed at the man next door quickly turns inward. She has no right to be mad at him. Elliot didn't decide to do this, he doesn't have a choice. He never gets angry with her when she's called to a case late at night or right in the middle of dinner together. How can she be angry at him for receiving orders that he has no control over?

_I usually don't have a very real chance of dying on my cases. _

When he goes over there, how often will he get shot at? How often will someone be staring at his head down the barrel of a gun?

Olivia scoffs, then wipes at the tears that are threatening to overflow her eyes. She's finally happy, but Fate's found a way to come along and snatch it right back out of her hands.

It's not Elliot's fault, it's his job. _His job. _

A job that he didn't always want to have.

_He wanted to be an architect when he was a kid, _she remembers. She thinks back to that Memorial Day night in front of the fire. He sat in a chair and told her that he didn't want to be in the Marines as a kid, he wanted to build things. Maybe it would have been better if he did go down that path, the safer one. He wouldn't have to deploy. He'd be safe behind a desk, far away from men with guns that want to kill him.

_"__I can't see myself sitting behind a desk all day. I'd probably go crazy." _

_"__Jumping out of planes is better?" _

_"__Oh, you know it." _

Olivia instantly feels guilty. No, the nine to five life definitely doesn't suit him. This is what he's built for, this is what he loves. It's also what she loves about him. She loves his commitment, his discipline, his undying need to protect not only her, but others, as well. He'd put everything on the line for the person next to him, he's put his own happiness aside to serve a greater purpose, a more important purpose. He's the strongest person that she's ever known.

And now, she needs to be strong, as well.

—

Elliot is halfway through the bottle of beer clutched in his fist when his front door opens. It's Olivia, looking exactly the same as when she left. His eyes trail up and down her body as she walks into the living room. "Welcome back."

"Hi," she answers, taking a seat next to him.

Silence permeates the room for a long moment. Finally, Olivia says, "So… deploying, huh?"

Elliot nods, swallows another gulp of beer and sets the bottle down on the coffee table. "Yeah. Back to Iraq."

Olivia takes the bottle and gulps the rest of the alcohol inside down. He waits until her gaze meets him before he speaks again.

"I found out today. Should've guessed it would have been around this time, it's been, what? I think seven months since we got back from the last one. Our work-ups are finished, and…" He trails off, searching Olivia's eyes. "Why are you so afraid?"

"What?"

"The _first _thing you thought when I say you down was that I was gonna leave you. Why do you think that?" She's silent. "Huh? Don't you know that I love you, Olivia?"

In one quick motion that makes the Marine in him proud, Olivia swings her leg over his lap, straddling him, and cups her face in both of her hands.

"I know that," she murmurs, and before he can say anything about it, crushes her lips against his. Elliot grips her waist, but the kiss is over before he even gets a chance to reciprocate.

"I know that, Elliot. I love you, too." Olivia rests her forehead on his for a moment, then nuzzles her face into his neck. The words she whispers to him send shivers down his spine. "I'm sorry I ran away. I'm sorry I questioned this- us. I… I love being with you so much that I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"I've got news for you," he says. His fingers tangle in her hair as he pushes her away just far enough to look her in the eyes. "There is no other shoe. Deployment or no, _I'm not leaving you. _I don't care if I have to fight and kick and scream, you're mine, and it's gonna stay that way." He smiles at her, then draws her in for a gentle kiss. "For as long as you want me, I'll keep comin' back."

Olivia nods. "Then I'll be right here, waiting for you."

* * *

The first couple of times Elliot deployed, he needed a written checklist to remember all the shit he had to do.

There's the easy stuff. He goes to the dentist and gets a cavity filled, his eyes checked, the very few immunizations he's been putting off. He cleans his house, _really_ cleans it, and gathers every piece of paperwork he's ever gotten from the Marines from on top of his fridge, in the back of the drawers in the kitchen, even a few in the console of his truck, packs them away into a nice, neat folder and places them into his lockbox with his birth certificate, social security card, the title for his truck, the lease on the house and all of Brutus's vet records. He goes to his lawyer to amend his will and updates his Record of Emergency Data. Olivia's name now proudly resides on both documents.

There's the hard stuff. He sits on the floor with Brutus, and even though he knows that the dog won't understand, he says, "I'm not gonna be seeing you for a while, buddy." The answer he's given is a wag of the tail and a wet, slobbering tongue on his cheek. He spars with Murph one more time, and wins, though he's almost positive the reason the victory came so easily is because he told the soldier right before they began._"Goin' to Iraq"_.

There's Olivia. Even after every single time he's deployed, he _still_ has no idea what to do when it comes to Olivia. The initial impact right after he told her quickly turned into unwavering support and unconditional love, but he knows what's hiding underneath it all, and it's killing him. She doesn't want him to see the fear, shock and grief, but there's nothing she can do to hide it all from him. It's evident everywhere: in the way her kisses linger just a little bit longer, how she's completely abandoned her own home to stay with him in his for the remainder of his time here, and when they sleep, how she stays awake later and gets up earlier, eyes on him, arms tight around him like she thinks he'll disappear any moment.

The last week that they spend together is one of the best. Olivia takes as many of the days off as she can, and they just spend the time together, talking, eating, watching movies and making love. Each day, they try a new room and a new position, once even making it in the backyard, under a warm blanket and the stars. That time has to be his favorite: facing each other, lips fused, urging each other to remain quiet. When Brutus trots happily out his doggie door and plops right down between them in the aftermath, both of them just laugh. And Olivia asks, "What are you gonna do with him?"

He tells her about the long term boarding place he's used in the past, and she asks, "Could I take him?"

"Do you want him?"

"Yeah."

And that's that. He gives her the paperwork, his dog food, his bowls. He tells her that he'll give her any of the money she has to spend on more food and pet care, but, like he thought she might, she refuses.

And there's the spiritual stuff. He's known many people and seen many different ways of life, but he always falls back on what's familiar: his childhood. Sunday morning mass, the Holy Bible, Jesus, the savior. When he walks into the church, it's partially those deep seeded beliefs, and partially the thought that if he breathes his last breath, he wants to do so with a clear conscience.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It's been a year and a half since my last confession." He swallows, and drops his gaze to his hands as they rest on his knees. He lists off his sins almost robotically, just as he was taught to do all those years ago… missing mass, not praying everyday, pride, even premarital sex, though any God that believes he could keep his hands off of the wonderful woman that lives next door surely is trying to test his faith. And finally, he says, "For these and all of my sins I am truly sorry."

"When do you leave, Elliot?" Father Denis asks from the other side of the box.

A small smile comes across Elliot's face. "Thursday."

"Where are you going?"

"Iraq." His smile fades. He runs a hand over his face, and sighs. "So this may be my last confession."

"Then we better make it a good one," Denis says. "For your penance, all's I ask is you say a prayer for protection every day during your deployment. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good. Now, your Act of Contrition."

"Oh my God," Elliot recites, "I am heartily sorry for having offended thee. I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend thee, my God, who are all good and deserving of my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to confess my sins, to do penance… and to amend my life."

Denis has a prayer of his own. Elliot bows his head as the priest speaks. "Almighty and eternal God, those who take refuge in you will be glad and forever will shout for joy. Protect this Marine as he discharges his duties. Protect him with the shield of your strength and keep him safe from all evil and harm. May the power of your love enable him to return hime in safety, that will all who love him, he may ever praise you for your loving care. I ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," Elliot whispers. "Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome," Denis says. "Good luck, Elliot. I'll pray for your safe return."

* * *

The night before he leaves, Elliot finishes packing. He puts away his stateside boots and takes out the grungier set, the set that has sand and dirt from Iraq instead of California permanently caked into the crevices. In his bags go the rest of his supplies. Fresh uniforms. Black stocking hat. Shampoo. Shaving cream. Two of his favorite books, three photos of Olivia, who's laying on his bed, watching him make his final preparations.

Elliot sets out his uniform for the next day, then lays beside her on his side, propping his head up with one hand so he can look at her. A long moment of silence passes over them.

"Can't believe you're really going," she murmurs finally as her eyelids flutter and her gaze drops from his face.

"I know," he says. "Feels like I just got back from the last one."

Olivia's gaze raises back up to his face. "Are… you scared, El?"

"I'm just happy to be done packing." His joke falls flat; Olivia doesn't even smile. A frown crosses his face. "C'mere."

She scoots towards him. His arm wraps around her waist as he pulls her the rest of the way to his body, then presses a kiss to her temple. "Am I scared? A little bit."

"So how do you keep doing it?"

Elliot shrugs. "I face my fears. I know that what I'm doing is important, and most of all… I just love my job."

His answer is the exact one that she's expecting, and it almost makes her angry. He's so calm. So fucking calm, how can he be so level headed about this? About leaving her and possibly never coming back?

_You know him. Did you really expect anything different? _

Olivia doesn't sleep more than an hour that night. She holds onto Elliot, watching his chest rise and fall easily, his eyelids flutter every so often, his breathing hitch as he snores softly. Her fingers brush ever so lightly over his bare chest, lit only by the moonlight that filters through the open blinds. His hair is even shorter than usual thanks to the cut he got the day before, and his cheeks are smooth from his shave… she's going to miss this so much, _him_ so much. How is she going to sleep so soundly in her own bed, without him laying next to her, or even next door from her?

When the sun begins to rise, the sense of dread in her stomach only grows. Elliot begins to stir around five thirty, a half hour before his alarm is set to ring. She's not surprised; usually he's waking up about an hour earlier.

"Morning," she whispers when his eyes flutter open.

"Mornin'," he says. The loose grip he has on her tightens as he comes fully awake. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long."

Elliot hums in reply as he presses his lips to hers. They kiss for several long, languid moments before he breaks away. "Gotta get ready."

"Not yet," she whispers. "Just a few more minutes."

"Just a few."

They pass too quickly. Before Olivia knows it, the alarm on the bedside table begins to shriek.

They shower together. Olivia runs the soap over his body, taking this one last time to memorize the plains of his chest, the ripples of his abs, the ink that blackens his shoulder. He does the same; his mouth slides over her cheeks, down the column of her neck and between her breasts. Even after they're both clean, they stand under the warm spray, silent, letting the water run over their intertwined bodies.

Finally, Elliot reaches behind her and turned off the water. His movements are slow, almost labored as he reaches for the towel they put out on the sink, and runs it gently over her body. As soon as he's done drying himself, Olivia wraps her arms around him, pulling his body close, letting her eyes close for a moment. Pretending that today isn't the last morning she'll spend with him, rather the start of another wonderful day, just like so many that they've shared.

He has to pull away, though. It's growing lighter out, signifying their time growing less and less.

When Elliot pulls on the jacket of his uniform today, the sleeves are down, rather than the crisp roll she's so used to seeing.

"Ready?" she asks quietly, looking him over.

Elliot takes a deep breath, and one final look around the dim house. "Yup. Are you?"

"I hope so."

* * *

They're sitting in her car silently. Elliot's right arm is slung out of the open window, and his left thumbs the brim of his patrol cap, which sits on his lap. When he looks at her, her eyes are glossy, and she's looking straight ahead, at one of the busses that will take him away from her. There are men all around in their uniforms, hugging and saying goodbye to their loved ones.

"Hey," he says. His hand envelopes hers, and squeezes. "Try not to worry too much. It's gonna be all right."

_You don't know that. _

"I'm gonna miss you," Olivia murmurs.

"I know. I'm gonna miss you, too."

"I want to give you something," she says, fumbling in her jacket pocket, "to keep with you."

The case she hands him is small, thin and silver. Elliot pops it open, and she immediately sees his eyes moisten. "Liv…"

It's a picture of the two of them on the beach from their double date with Casey and Murph. They're sitting on their blanket. Her head is resting against his shoulder, he looks down at her, and she knows that he sees the same love between them that she does.

He pulls her as close as the car they sit in allows. "Thank you." When they break apart, he opens his breast pocket and places the case inside. "That's staying right here until I get back."

She watches him get out of the car, set his hat on his head and grab his bag. When his arms wrap tightly around her, it takes everything she has to keep the tears at bay.

"I love you," he says. "It's not gonna be so bad."

"Just be safe. I-I need you to come back safe."

"I will."

Olivia's eyes scan the group of people slowly migrating towards the busses just as Garrett and his wife approach. When the older Marine reaches her, he puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes gently. "Hey, Olivia, we'll take good care of this one. He'll come back to you in one piece."

"Thanks, Garrett," she answers softly. "I hope so."

"Don't you worry," Garrett says. He lets go of her shoulder, then reaches out to pat Elliot on the back. "We're loading up, Gunny. I'll meet you on the bus."

"Alright," Elliot says. "Just gotta say goodbye, I'll see you in a minute."

Olivia watches Garrett and Julianna walk to the side of the first bus, alone now, and say their goodbyes, and she wonders how they've been able to do it for so long. This is only her first time and she already can't stand the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Hey," Elliot says gently, taking her shoulders and guiding her close, forcing her to look back to him. "It's not gonna be so bad. Hell, you'll be so busy saving Anaheim, this time's gonna fly."

Olivia purses her lips, and nods as she feels the moisture well up in her eyes. Elliot's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he pulls her close. "Love you."

"Love you, too," she says, arms curling tightly around his waist. She knows there are people all around them, but she can't help it when she pulls him in for a kiss. Their lips rest together for a moment, both of them just needing one last bit of closeness to the other.

Their kiss breaks. Their hug breaks. Olivia immediately misses his presence. Her hands smooth over his chest, her gaze meets his, and she whispers. "Bye, Elliot."

Even she can see the struggle that the smile he gives her produces. "See you in a few months."

One more kiss; neither of them can help it. Olivia holds her forehead to his for a moment, breathes, tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Gotta go," he says gently, glancing at the bus, then back at her.

Olivia doesn't even remember grabbing his hand and holding it tight. She lets go, and nods. "Bye."

"Bye." With one final look, he gets onto the bus and disappears behind the tinted windows.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! You guys have been really awesome with all of your support. Leave your thoughts for a glimpse of the next chapter.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening :)

-Stabson


	24. Apart

A/N: Hey, everyone. It's quite late over here and I'm very tired and I'm about to fall asleep, but I managed to get this done for you all.

This one is dedicated to all of the service members who leave the comforts of home behind to serve. Happy Veteran's Day. And also happy Marine Corps Birthday. Semper fi.

* * *

Olivia thinks about him more often now, when he's gone, than she did when he was here. Everything reminds her of him. At her desk, she sees him standing, in uniform, next to Shane, waiting to convince her that no friend of his could be so evil. At home, she sees him standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner for her or pouring them drinks. And, worst of all, laying in her bed, she sees him laying right beside her. Bare chested, sleepy from a bout of lovemaking, completely exhausted from a long week of work or hanging onto her loosely, stroking a hand through her hair or down her back to coax her to sleep.

Now she's alone, missing the presence that used to keep her company so often. She thinks of breathing him in, the mix of soap on his skin and minty toothpaste on his breath as he leans in to kiss her. Most of all, she thinks of his arms slipping around her waist and pulling her body to his, sending a feeling she can't even describe through her chest. Calmness, warmth, familiarity, relief.

Sometimes, when she's laying in her bed in the moments right before she drifts off, when her mind is between the conscious world and her dreams, she whispers, "I love you."

And on those especially rare occasions, usually when her brain is fried from a long day (or days) of work, she can just manage to convince herself that she hears his own soft sentiment.

_"__Love you, too." _

Olivia's jarred back to the present as the sedan comes to a stop in the hospital parking lot. Raúl turns to her, and gives her a small smile. "Ready?"

Her partner has been all she can ask for in the couple weeks Elliot's been gone, which has been both a blessing and a curse. Raúl takes her to lunch, offers to grab dinner and go for drinks, anything to keep Olivia from feeling so alone. Most of the time she tells him playfully that she doesn't need a babysitter and he should get home to his family, but the sentiment is what means the most.

"Yeah, let's go."

The lights in the hospital are bright and fluorescent. The smell of rubbing alcohol invades her nostrils and hushed speech between nurses, doctors and families fill the hall. Olivia's heels _click click click_ as she walks.

The woman standing at the nurse's station wears a pair of purple scrubs, she's pale and her long, orange hair is pulled back into a messy pony tail. "What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, we're looking for the abuse victim," Raúl says, flashing his badge, "Nason, Savannah M."

A tight frown crosses the nurse's face. "Oh, that poor little girl. She had a fit when the nurse tried to do an exam. Right down the hall to the left. Her parents are on their way now."

"You take the girl and I'll wait for the parents?" Raúl says as they reach the room.

"Yeah, no problem." She knows her partner has a little girl at home. The cases with kids are always the hardest on him.

"Hi, Savannah," Olivia greets gently, stopping in the doorway of the room. "My name's Olivia. Can I come in?"

The girl in the bed is ten years old, has long, dark hair, and an olive complexion. She looks at Olivia with apprehension in her big, brown eyes, but answers, "Yeah."

"Okay." Olivia sits down next to her.

"Where's my mom and dad?" Savannah asks.

"They're on their way right now. I'm here to talk to you about what happened, if that's okay."

"I don't want to. It was scary."

"I know, sweetie. But if you tell me about what the man did to you, we can make sure he never comes and tries to hurt you again."

—

The only constant of this life is the heat. The wars change, the weapons change, hell, even _he_ changes. But here, in the desert, between the houses made of mud and the vehicles that carry the men and their supplies, the hot sun burns his skin. Dryness fills him with a fatigue that he's never felt anywhere else. Training is one thing, but actually being out here is another entirely.

For one thing, he can go home to a beautiful woman when he's training. After a rough few days, he has someone to kiss him, rub his tired muscles, join him in a nice, warm shower and slip between the sheets with him.

Now, when Elliot reaches out for her in the middle of the night, his hand doesn't fall on her warm body. Her warmth… he misses that. He misses the way her eyelids flutter open in the morning, the sparkle in her beautiful golden orbs when she realizes he's right there, laying next to her. He misses the way her hair feels when her head rests on his chest, so soft, tickling him and sending goosebumps down his spine all at the same time.

Elliot shoves the bridge of his sunglasses further up on his nose, then takes a long gulp from his canteen. How long has be been at this vehicle checkpoint? Eleven hours? Twelve? Their position is an old, burnt out gas station, one road with berms on either side and absolutely nothing else. They've had a productive day so far, stopping countless vehicles, detaining a few persons of interest and confiscating weapons, all with minimal resistance. Boring, but probably as safe as it can get over here.

Elliot stands off to the side of the road, weapon clutched in both hands, scanning the barren landscape around him. His body armor is weighing on him, as he knows it's weighing on all of the men, and his feet ache. They've still got two or three more hours… his main goal at this point is to help keep the Marines on their toes and keep them vigilant, because the enemy can strike at any time.

In the distance, he sees a little white car approaching. The hood is red, there's a huge dent in the bumper and one of the side mirrors is missing.

"He ain't slowing down!" Corporal Slater shouts.

"Fire a warning!" Elliot says. It's been a couple hours since the last sign of action. He's ready for some more.

The muzzle of Slater's rifle flashes. A loud _CRACK_ slices through the air and reverberates through the wide open area.

Elliot holds his breath. He's already flicked off the safety on his weapon, and he's staring at the man in the driver's seat of the vehicle as it screeches to a stop. From what Eliot can tell, he's probably in his thirties or forties. A huge mustache sits on his upper lip.

A second passes. Then another, and another. And without warning, the driver floors it. The sound of the revving engine hits his ears as the vehicle grows closer, closer, closer. Elliot fires his own warning shot. He doesn't slow down.

"Stand by," Elliot shouts. His heart's hammering in his chest. He widens his stance, finger tightens on the trigger as he locks onto the man behind the windshield. He's not stopping. Not stopping.

"Take his ass out!"

_POPPOPPOPPOPPOP. _

_BOOM. BOOM. _

Elliot looks up from the sights as the vehicle drifts off to the right, but still isn't stopping. Closer. Closer. He lowers his cheek back down onto the stock of his rifle, fires a few more rounds, and finally, the vehicle careens off of the road and comes to a stop in the middle of the berm. The windows of the vehicle are smashed. There's blood everywhere, a result of two machine guns, a sniper rifle and a few of the rifles that he and the rest of the men carry all firing at once.

Before Elliot can get a chance to give any more orders, a flicker of a flame ignites around the passenger side trunk area.

"Hold off," Elliot says cautiously. "Stay back, may be explosives in there."

The fire leaps up the side of the trunk, spreads to the backseat, and before he knows it, there are giant, raging flames engulfing the whole back end.

"Rodriguez, Allen. Keep your eyes on the road," he orders the sniper and machine gunner on the roof of the station. "Slater, pull security."

Just as the young, dark-skinned corporal moves to follow Elliot's order, an ear shattering _BOOM _

blows over them, and a huge, fiery explosion propels outwards, sending black, billowing smoke and debris in every direction.

—

"Mom lets me walk home from school by myself sometimes since we live so close."

"Okay," Olivia says. "Did you walk home alone today?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, what happened while you were walking home?"

"I was walking by the baseball fields. A man grabbed me and pulled me into the bushes." Savannah sniffles and wraps her arms around herself. "I-I didn't want to… but he held me down, p-pulled down my pants, and… he hurt me."

"Okay. You're doing really good, Savannah," Olivia says. "Can you tell me what the man looked like?"

"He was really tall with orange hair. He had a t-shirt with an 'A' on it. I remember because my Dad has the same one." The tears in her eyes break free and roll down her cheeks. She tries to wipe them away, but they're falling too quickly. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Olivia glances out the window, where Raúl still stands, alone. "Okay, you don't have to. It's gonna be okay, sweetie, you were really brave."

"I want my mom and dad," she sniffles.

"I know. They'll be here soon."

—

_Two legs. Two arms. Toes move. Fingers move. I'm okay. _

Elliot sits up, hands immediately going to his rifle. The sheer force of the explosion has blown both he and Slater backwards. The younger Marine is sitting up now, looking dazed, but okay.

_If he would have gotten a little bit closer… _Elliot swallows and jumps to his feet. _Fuckin' asshole. _

"You alright, Slater?"

"Yeah, Gunny."

"Alright. Let's get EOD out here."

—

They reach the base just as the sun's starting to rise again. Elliot's exhausted; he's been on the move for nearly a week now. He watches as the guys drop their stuff and makes themselves comfortable, ready for at least a day of rest.

"G'morning." Garrett says from the table in the middle of the room. He's eating rubbery scrambled eggs from the silver package of a Meal Ready to Eat and there's a little cup of steaming coffee in front of him.

"Is that what it is?" Elliot asks, sitting at the computer. He links up to the internet, and begins typing a quick email. He hears Garrett chuckle from behind him.

_Liv, _

_How are you? Just sending a quick email to let you know everything's going fine. Just got back to base, about to crash for a few hours. _

"Tell her I said hello."

_Garrett says hi. I'll try to give you a call later if I can. _

_Love you_

_-El_

Elliot hits 'send' and yawns, wiping his eyes. "Alright, I'm gonna crash."

"Good, get some rest."

The bunk that he falls into is small and the mattress is thin, but in that moment, it doesn't matter. His eyes close, and right before he falls asleep, he whispers the quick prayer Father Denis gave him.

_"__St. Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray. And do thou, oh Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and the other evil spirits who prowl about the world for the ruin of souls. Amen."_

—

The rest of Olivia's day is shit. The case goes nowhere fast after Savannah's parents arrived; no DNA from the rape kit, no fingerprints, nothing, just a vague description. They canvas, try to find security tapes of the surrounding area, go through all the motions, but they produce nothing. Finally, around six o'clock, she and Raúl call it a day and promise to have a fresh start tomorrow.

When Olivia arrives home, the only thing she wants to do is crawl in to bed, cuddle up with her man and allow his soothing words and even breathing calm her, lull her into the content, almost dreamlike state that only he can induce. She wants to feel his bare skin against hers, his lips to press against her forehead and his arms to tighten around her, just like he always does when he knows something's on her mind or a case gets rough. For some reason, she can't get that young girl out of her head… it's killing her.

One of the things she loves most about Elliot is the way that most of the comfort he offers isn't in his words. His touches are just a little bit gentler, kisses linger a little bit longer and words come fewer and farther between, giving her time and space to talk to him when he knows she needs it. Most of the time, she doesn't, just his presence banishes whatever bad feelings she has away, and she knows that's okay with him. He doesn't need to know all of the gut wrenching details, just that she'll talk to him about it if she needs to.

Tonight, though, he's not here to offer her silent comfort, gentle touches or sweet kisses. He's not here to offer those simple words: _"Don' worry, you'll get 'em"_. Tonight, her bed is empty and cold.

Olivia sits on the couch, turns on the television, and rubs her aching stomach, wishing the ball of stress in her head would just disappear. She thinks she hates cases with children just as much as Raúl does.

Brutus jumps up onto the couch with her, places his head on her lap and looks up at her. His big brown eyes are wet with tears, and she swears one of them is going to break free. Olivia runs her hand gently over his head. "I know, boy. I miss him, too." She never knew dogs cried.

"Y'know what, come on."

The key Elliot gave her slides easily into the lock, and the door creaks open. The house she enters is dark; every light is off and the appliances are unplugged, even the refrigerator. Olivia makes her way into his bedroom, which looks strange without a uniform hanging on the hook nailed to the door or a stack of clean clothes piled neatly on the dresser.

Inside the dresser, Olivia finds one of his Marine Corps t-shirts to change into. She crawls into bed, wraps the covers tightly around herself and inhales deeply, surrounding herself with his essence, which still clings to his bed and his clothing even after the weeks he's been gone.

The bed dips as Brutus jumps in beside her and curls up to her side. There's still sorrow in his big brown eyes, but he gives her a lick anyway, almost thanking her for bringing him over with her. The truth is, as silly as it sounds, being around this animal, in his house and his bed, she feels like he could be right beside her.

—

_To: __OBenson4015 _

_From: usmc mil_

_Subject: Hey _

_Date: Tues, 3 December, 6:13 AST_

_Liv, _

_How are you? Just sending an email to let you know everything's going fine. Just got back to base, about to crash for a few hours. Garrett says hi. I'll try to give you a call later if I can. _

_Love you_

_-El _

A smile crosses Olivia's face and warmth rises in her stomach. She can even hear his words in her ear, soft and gravelly, like they always are when he's tired: _"I'll try 'n call you later. Love you." _

She's going to get to hear his voice again. She's going to hear his voice and talk to him and he's going to talk to her… she feels so stupid for feeling this giddy. After all, it's only been a few weeks since she saw him last, and just as long since she spoken to him, but the longing she feels for him is unreal. If this is what it's like after such a short period of time, Olivia already hates what it's going to be like in a few months. This is going to be a long, long process.

She checks her phone, just to make sure she doesn't have any missed calls from strange phone numbers, and she's relieved when there is none. It's eight o'clock in the morning here, so what is it over there? Seven at night?

Eight o'clock grows into nine with no word. Around nine-thirty, her phone rings. It's a phone number she's never seen.

"Hello?"

A prerecorded message. She hangs up before it even gets to the subject of the call, frown crossing her face. It's growing later and later over there… maybe he got tied up. Maybe he's not going to call after all. Maybe he was called out on another mission, maybe the base was attacked, maybe-

"What's the matter?" Raúl asks from his desk.

"Nothing," she says. "Elliot's supposed to call, I'm just…"

"Eagerly awaiting?" Raúl finishes.

Olivia nods. "Yeah."

They work in silence for about fifteen more minutes. Just as Olivia starts to lose hope, her phone buzzes on her desk. She picks it up immediately.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

Both physical and mental relief wash over her as she sinks back into her chair. _God, it's so good to hear that voice_. "El. How is everything? Are you doing okay, did you get some rest?"

"I'm good. I got plenty of rest today, everything's fine," he says, and the sound is as fresh as recently cut grass. "I'm sitting at camp right now, I had to take care of a few things, otherwise I would have called earlier."

"Oh. What did you have to take care of?"

There's a long moment of silence. "Oh, y'know, just a few things. Nothing important."

It's not hard to tell that he's not giving her the whole truth. He wants to protect her, she knows that, but a part of her is still irritated. _What, he thinks I can't handle knowing what he's doing over there? _

But the irritation quickly fades. Another part of her is glad he's not telling her; that part doesn't want to know and to worry more.

"How's it going over there?" he asks. "Arrested any bad guys lately?"

Olivia thinks of Savannah. "Hopefully we'll get one of them today. We caught a case yesterday afternoon."

"I'm not keeping you from your work, am I?"

"No. Well, nothing important, at least."

"That's good to hear." Elliot says. "How's Brutus?"

"Good," she says. "He misses you. The first few days he just sat at the window all the time, waiting. I think he finally figured out where you went."

"Poor pup. Give him a kiss for me, will you?" Elliot requests. "And how're you doing?"

"I'm… still getting used to this," Olivia says honestly. "But okay."

"Okay, huh? You sure?"

_No. _

"Yeah. Hey, tell Garrett I said hello, too. How's he doing?"

"He's fine. Been sitting in this place with the A.C., living the life. I'll tell him you said hello."

"A.C.? Wait, you guys have air conditioning?"

"On the rare occasion that we're actually at camp, yeah. We're living the life over here, Liv. Phone lines, internet to check email, air conditioning. It's a lot better than the last time I deployed. Safer, too."

"Are you just saying that so I won't worry about you?" Olivia asks.

"You mean lie, to _you_? Never."

"Maybe I should talk to Garrett. I dunno if I'm buying what you're trying to sell." A smile has spread across Olivia's face as the warmth in her chest continues to grow.

"I'm insulted, now, Liv," he says, attempting to be serious, but she can hear the humor in his tone. "I would _never_ lie to you."

"Sure, whatever you say, Stabler."

"Hey, hey, hey, show a little respect, Detective. It's _Gunnery Sergeant_ Stabler."

Olivia's heart jumps. She feels like a teenager talking on the phone with her crush, feeling giddy whenever he makes a dumb joke or attempts to flirt with her. Can she just stay on the phone forever with him? This could be a deployment that maybe she could handle, at least she'd get to hear that wonderful voice. That voice that makes her laugh, makes her feel happy and safe and like nothing else at all matters in the world.

"Alright, now I'm really gonna have to talk to Garrett, so I can tell him to smack you for me."

Elliot laughs heartily from the other end. "Maybe next time. I have to go now, there are a few more things to do tonight."

The amusement and bliss that speaking with him has brought her instantly turns into disappointment as reality comes crashing back down on her. She's not a teenager. The man on the other end is thousands of miles away and he won't be in her arms again for quite a long while. "Alright, then. I should get back to work, too."

"Okay," Elliot says. "It was really good talking to you."

"It was good hearing from you. I… I miss you, El."

"I know. Miss you too. And I love you."

"Love you, too."

"Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Olivia holds the phone to her hear for a minute longer, and releases he's doing the same thing. The silence washes over them both until, finally, she takes the phone from her ear and presses the red button, signaling the end of the call.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading. As always, please let me know what you think.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	25. Distant

A/N: I know this chapter took longer than usual to come out. Sorry about that :( Enjoy it anyways.

Thank you, PaperFrames. Without you, this chapter wouldn't be here.

* * *

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: OBenson4015 _

_Subject: I Miss You_

_Date: 8 January, 9:30 PST_

_El, _

_The subject line says it all. I really miss you. It's barely been two months, but I can't stand this. _

_I miss your voice, your hands, your eyes. I miss the way you look at me. I miss how warm you always feel. In bed, on your couch, outside. Do you remember the night we spent outside? Who am I kidding, of course you do. Well, I just want to go back to that night and lay there together forever. Why can't we do that, El? Why can't we just lay there and forget everything?_

_Why did you have to go? _

_I know, I know why. But I hate this. I can't wait until the summer to see you again. _

_Please come home._

_-Liv _

Olivia takes one look at the words that poured from her keyboard and deletes them immediately.

_Come on, Olivia, pull it together. _

It's Friday night, just about time to clock out. She should be getting excited for their usual routine right now: stopping at the store to pick up a six pack of beer and fighting with him over which brand to buy- bitter Guinness that he enjoys or the Miller Light that she prefers, that he often comments "tastes like water". She never thought she'd miss their playful banter so much.

Raúl sighs, drawing her out of her reverie, and stretches at his desk before settling his gaze on her. "Doing okay?"

"Fine," she answers, glancing at the empty email form in front of her. Tonight's just not the night for her; she's frazzled. They haven't spoken in days and concern has started to pool in her stomach. This is expected, she knows. He warned her that, while there can be days where he can send emails one right after the other, there can also be times when they will go days, even weeks without speaking.

Olivia wishes she's prepared herself more for that. Then again, how could she have? It's like trying to prepare for a root canal. She knew what was coming, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Looks like Casey's here."

"Huh?"

When Olivia turns, both Casey and Murph are walking through the double doors to the squad room, hand in hand. Olivia stands as they reach her. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We're here to get you out of your self-imposed solitude," Murph says. "You're coming to dinner with the two of us and your partner, if he wants to join in."

"Guys, I appreciate the thought, but really, I'm fine," Olivia says. "I'm just gonna go home, and-

"Sulk, by yourself in that house?" Casey finishes. "I don't think so. C'mon, Liv. You're coming with us."

"I'll tag along," Raúl says as he holds out her jacket. "Let's go have some fun."

—-

The end up at a little pub that's more of a bar than a restaurant. Next to the bar, there are three pool tables, a couple of dartboards and tables scattered around. It's nearing seven o'clock, and there are plenty of patrons scattered around. The place instantly reminds Olivia of somewhere she used to go to back in New York.

The hostess seats them at one of the tables in the corner. Off of the menu, Olivia orders a steak with steamed vegetables and eats half of it before pushing it away.

"You're not gonna finish that?" Murph asks, digging his fork into a piece of the meat before she gets a chance to reply.

"Help yourself," Olivia says. She makes a mental note never to eat supermarket sushi for lunch again. Her stomach is flipping dangerously.

Raúl finishes his drink and sets his glass back on the table. "Hey, Olivia, there's a pool table open. Wanna play?"

"No, that's all right."

"C'mon, _manita,_" he says. "What are you, scared?"

"Scared? In your dreams."

"Prove it, then. C'mon."

Olivia glances at Murph, then Casey, and sighs, throwing back the rest of her drink. "Alright, let's go."

She follows Raúl to the empty table. He racks up the balls, hands her one of the sticks on the wall, and says, "Ladies first."

When Olivia breaks, she gets a striped and a solid ball into the two corner pockets. "I'll take striped."

"You play a lot of pool back in New York?" Raúl asks. He aims the cue for one of the striped balls near the edge of the table, and sinks it into the corner pocket. His next shot isn't so lucky. The red striped ball rolls in the complete opposite direction, clicking with two solid balls as it comes to a stop.

"A little bit," Olivia says as she takes careful aim. She manages to land the solid green in the side pocket furthest from her. She gets another in the corner pocket at the other end of the table, and misses on her third shot. "I guess I'm not as rusty as I thought I was."

"I guess not," Raúl mumbles before taking his shot.

The game doesn't last very long. Olivia manages to sink the eight ball into one of the corner pockets while her partner still has three solids left on the table.

"You just got lucky," Raúl says. "C'mon, one more game."

"Just lucky, huh?" Olivia chuckles. "I don't think so, Vasquez."

"That's _Detective_ Vasquez to you."

_"__Hey, hey, hey, show a little respect, Detective. It's Gunnery Sergeant Stabler."_

Olivia swallows the lump in her throat and takes a deep breath. "I don't feel like another game. I'm gonna get a drink."

Murph and Casey are playing darts when Olivia sits down at the bar. She watches them for a moment before ordering a beer from the bartender.

Jesus, she thinks. what the hell is wrong with her? He said one little thing, one tiny, completely innocent little comment, and now she can't get her mind off of a certain blue-eyed Marine.

Olivia's just sucking down the last bit from her bottle when a man with dark brown hair and brown eyes slides into the chair beside her. He sets the two beers in his hands onto the bar top in front of him. "How's it going?"

"Fine," she says. "Uh, can I help you?"

"No, I just saw you sitting along over here and figured I'd come and say hello. Oh, and I bought you another drink. Beer." He slides the bottle in front of her. "I'm Brian, by the way. Brian Cassidy. What's your name, beautiful?"

Olivia opens her mouth to answer, but before she knows it, Murph and Raúl are coming down on the two of them. Murph takes the beer in front of Olivia, and slides it back over to Brian. "Hey, buddy. Nice try, but she's not interested."

"Yeah, trust us, you don't want to try to hit on my partner," Raúl adds.

Olivia grabs both Murph and Raúl's shoulders and turns them towards her.

"Really? You guys know I can speak for myself, right?"

"We got this, Liv," Murph says.

She rolls her eyes and scoffs, shoving Murph away from her. "At least Elliot isn't _obnoxious_."

With that, she grabs the beer that Brian offered, and stalks out of the bar.

There a light rain falling outside. The sky is dark and overcast and the lights in the parking lot are bright, but Olivia still manages to see a few dull stars shining in the night. She takes a long swig of the drink in her hand, then sets it onto the pavement against the brick wall of the building. She's suddenly not feeling like drinking. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and paces slowly, the overhang of the building keeping her safe from the rain.

_Who the hell do they think they are? I can take care of my damn self, I don't need anyone to protect me. _

The rumble of the crowd, clinking of glasses, and tapping of pool sticks and darts from inside have all been replaced with swooshing as cars pass by and low murmurs as group of people make their way in and out.

_Well… there is one person. _

What's he hearing right now? She tries to imagine the sounds of deserts and towns in Iraq, something peaceful, but gunfire and the blasts of IEDs and mortars explode in her ears. What does he do when those things happen? Yell for the guys to put their heads down behind cover? Tell them to return fire?

Would he be afraid?

_"__Are… you scared, El?" _

_"__I'm just happy to be done packing." _

The door speaks open once again, and Olivia looks up just as Murph steps outside. He takes a deep breath, hitches up his pants, then finally turns towards her.

Sometimes he's more like Elliot than she ever thought, and this moment is definitely one of them. She's not sure why that is, maybe it has something to do with growing up together in the same place and being such close friends. When she's next to Murph, it's almost like Elliot's there, too. Both of their auras, the way they speak, even the experiences that make their lives are nearly the same. That includes the way each of them can hit just the right buttons to annoy the piss out of her.

"I need a babysitter out here, too?" Olivia says, watching Murph as he sits down on the bench set against the wall.

"No." He pats the empty spot beside him as an invitation for her to sit, but she doesn't. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. Murph doesn't even flinch. Instead, he chuckles. "He's given me that exact same look, y'know. Right before he beat the shit out of me sparring. I think that was when you guys were having your little disagreement."

"Don't try to bring him up to change the subject."

Murph's smile fades. "That's what it's really about though, isn't it?" When she doesn't answer, he pats the spot next to him again. "C'mon, just sit down with me."

Finally, she does. He takes a moment to look her over, then rubs his hands together before speaking. "I know it's hard. Being here, safe, while you know the person that you care the most about is halfway around the world, doing what he's doing. But he doesn't want you to lay around the house, miserable all the time."

"Is that why you guys dragged me out tonight?"

The smile is back. Olivia wonders how a man that's seen war can smile and be happy so damn much. "We really just want to see you have some fun. For a while, it looked like it was working."

"It was. But…" Olivia trails off, then drops her eyes to the cement, glistening wet with the rain, and knows that her eyes are similar. They glisten with her tears. She did have fun, until the tiniest of things set her off. Her partner said something stupid, just a stupid joke that shouldn't have meant anything, but it reminder her of him. How can she have fun when…?

"I know," Murph says. "Survivor's guilt. You don't think you should be having a good time while he's over there in Hell on Earth."

"It can't be so bad," Olivia says. "Can it? I mean, he has… air conditioning."

"Let's put it this way: if Elliot hated it so much, he would have gotten out a while ago. Relax, have a little fun. The time will go by a lot faster that way."

"I doubt it," Olivia murmurs.

Murph nudges her lightly. "It will. Now, c'mon, you deserve a drink, and not some cheap bottle of beer, either. Let's go back inside."

"Are you gonna act like my father?" Olivia asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't promise anything," Murph answers as he grabs her hand, swinging it back and forth lightly as they head towards the door. "Don't lie, deep down you like having another big, strong, handsome soldier defending you."

"Oh, get over yourself, Murphy."

He gives a big grin. "Never."

No matter how much she tries convince herself, she knows he's right. Deep down, she knows that, besides Elliot, he and Raúl are the two most important men in her life. She loves them and their brotherly antics.

—-

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: __OBenson4015 _

_Subject: Thinking of You _

_Date: Mon, 8 January, 23:12 PST_

_El, _

_I just want to tell you that I love you. And I've been thinking of you. I hope everything is going okay over there. _

_I went out with Raúl, Casey and Murph earlier tonight. Raúl and Casey say hello, Murph told me that you guys have been emailing back and forth._

_By the way, I can take care of myself, you know. You didn't need to tell Murph and Raúl to look out for me. _

_Let me know what you've been up to. I miss the sound of your voice, hopefully you get a chance to give me a call soon. My phone's always on. _

_Love you,_

_-Liv_

—-

The door makes a deafening _boom_ as it's blown off of its hinges. Elliot is the third man into the house, weapon raised, heart pounding in his throat. No matter how many times he clears a building, he'll never get used to it. Rodriguez and Allen, the two guys in front of him, veer off to the right, he and Shane take the stairs to the left. Halfway up, he hears male voices shouting in Arabic.

Elliot's trigger hand tightens around his weapon, he holds it ready with the safety switched off, and moves as swiftly and quietly as possible. The only door at the top of the stairs is closed, and upon closer inspection, locked. Holding up his rifle, he places a hard, well-aimed kick to the area below the doorknob. It explodes open with a loud bang.

Elliot takes the left. Shane takes the right. He fires two rounds at the man in the corner, dropping him, but before he can gain his bearings, a body slams into his side, knocking the wind out of him. He tries to get to his rifle, but it's no use; his attacker knocks it away and whips out a huge knife, aiming straight for Elliot's neck. Elliot sends a quick jab to the man's throat, grabs his pistol, and fires without a second thought. The shot makes a deafening _bang_ in the small room.

Elliot shoves the body off of him just as Shane approaches. "Goddamn, Gunny, you blew half his face off."

His blood is roaring in his ears, his heart is pounding and there's a sheen of sweat across his forehead that can be attributed to more than just the scorching hot temperatures. Elliot wipes his face on the sleeve of his uniform, then takes the hand Shane offers. "Somebody should tell these guys that their rifles are a lot more effective than butter knives."

"Shh," Shane says as they make their way back down the stairs. "I like the ones that aren't too bright. Makes our jobs a hell of a lot easier."

Outside, Elliot takes tally of the rest of the guys: Shane, Corporal Slater, Rodriguez, Allen, a new corporal that just transferred to his unit before the deployment named Munch and their Navy medic, Jim Burns. Once the squad is ready, they cross a small alley and bust into the ground floor of a larger, three story building. There's roof access to this one. Elliot takes the front this time, walking up the steps carefully, hand gripped tightly around his trigger. At the top of the staircase, there's another door, which he opens ever so carefully.

Elliot's about three feet past the door, into the scorching hot sun, when fire explodes through his chest. The wind is knocked out of him, he lands flat on his back, and his hand instantly covers the spot on his Kevlar above the intense pain that now radiates through his ribcage. _Shit, what just happened?_

_POPPOPPOPPOPPOP_

Burns drops down beside him. "Are you okay? Just stay still."

"I'm fine," Elliot winces. "It hit the kevlar."

There's no blood. Not even a tear in his vest, just a little indent where the bullet made contact. Just the kevlar. The vest managed to save his lise. Burns pats him on the shoulder. "You're one lucky son of a bitch."

"Yeah, not the first time I've heard that," Elliot mutters, jumping to his feet. The bullets have stopped flying and the men around are mostly focused on keeping their roof secure. "Alright, guys, let's move out. Maybe we can get back to the base before it hits 110."

They make it. Just as Elliot walks into the team room, the sun hits its highest point in the sky and the temperature has reached 108 degrees. Elliot sits down at his computer right after he manages to get his heavy, sweat-drenched equipment off.

There's one new email in his inbox. He opens it, reads it, and a smile instantly crosses his face. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that his face is burnt from the sun, his feet are aching and his ribcage still burns with pain.

_I just want to tell you that I love you. And I've been thinking of you._

He takes out the tin from his breast pocket, and smiles as he examines the picture once again. He can't wait to see her eyes again for real.

Elliot puts the picture away, then leans over the keyboard to write out a response.

—-

_To: __OBenson4015 _

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: RE: Thinking of You _

_Date: 15 Jan, 21:00 AST_

_Hey, _

_Everything's okay. _

_I'm happy you've been keeping busy. Did you guys have a good time? _

_You can't blame a guy for caring. I just want to make sure you're not alone over there. It sounds like you're not, that's what I care about. _

_Gotta go. I'll try to call you when I can get a little more time. Maybe next week. _

_Love you. _

_-El_

_—__-_

When Olivia opens her eyes, she's standing on a dirt road. Sand and burnt shrubbery surrounds her on all sides, and the sun beats down on her, making her squint.

_Where am I?_

When she turns, a convoy of vehicles and men appears, heading straight towards her. They're all in uniforms she's seen Elliot wear to work every day, along with big packs, kevlar vests, helmets and heavy weapons. They look tired and weary, but hold those weapons at the ready, scanning the landscape for potential threats.

"Hello?"

Her gaze is suddenly drawn to one of the men heading towards her. His eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses, weapon gripped in both hands, and a frown covers his face. "Elliot?"

Like the other men, he doesn't even acknowledge her, just keeps walking. His uniform is dirty, his face covered in sand and sweat, lips chapped. His skin is cracked and darkened from the sun. Strange feelings well up in her chest; she feels relieved and happy, but tired, scared and worried for him all at once. Most of all, she wants to reach out and hold him, despite the weapon his his hands and the body armor that covers his torso.

A sudden whistle and a _CRACK _pierces her eardrums, nearly making her jump out of her skin. "INCOMING!"

The men around her drop as all hell breaks loose. _CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. _Smoke billows from the ground as the mortars make contact, sending the men scattering and falling onto their stomachs, weapons still raised.

"Get to cover!" It's Elliot's voice. She didn't even realize it the moment she hit the ground, but she's next to him now, watching him frantically look around for the source of the attack. She sees nothing, and apparently, neither does he. Her heart is pounding in her throat. _Get him, get him, get him. _

Elliot crawls towards the Humvee, towards the only safety that the wide open field offers, but Olivia doesn't move. She's suddenly rooted to the spot, reduced back to a simple spectator as Elliot moves further away, trying to find something to protect him from the violent blasts that rain down.

Olivia doesn't know how she sees the mortar. "El-!"

It's too late. Shrapnel, dirt and rock spray in all directions. Elliot's blown back with a surprised yelp. When she reaches him, his sunglasses have been blown to pieces, blood covers the front of his uniform, and he's gasping for breath, clutching at the wounds that tear through his chest.

"Elliot," she murmurs, lifting his upper body into her arms. "Elliot, talk to me."

Finally, his eyes meet hers. "Liv…"

Blood dribbles down his chin. She tries to wipe it away, but even has her finger swipes over his skin, the trickle of red remains. "Hang on. Please, just keep breathing." Olivia looks around, but the men are shooting and taking cover from the invisible enemy. "Somebody help!"

_He's going to die. He's going to die and there's nothing I can do. _

Warm tears trickle down her face. She feels like like an ice pick has been driven so far into her chest that it will never be dislodged, completely shattering her heart in the process. His breathing is slowing, the life is draining out of him, and the blood flows out, faster, faster, faster., sending him closer and closer to death. His body is already starting to grow cold. _Don't give up on me. Please, Elliot, don't leave me. _

His eyes close, and his chest grows still. Olivia shakes him gently. "Elliot… open your eyes."

Nothing.

Olivia shoots up in bed, breathing heavily. Sweat covers her forehead, her heart pounds in her chest. It takes her a moment to realize where she is. _It was a dream. It was just a terrible dream. _

"Elliot," she whispers, grasping her blanket tightly. "Please come home safe."

—-

There are no new emails in Olivia's inbox. She stares at the screen:

_Subject: RE: Thinking of You Date: 15 Jan, 21:00 AST _

_ Subject: Hey Date: 3 Jan, 6:13 AST _

Refresh.

_Subject: RE: Thinking of You__Date: 15 Jan, 21:00 AST _

_ Subject: Hey __Date: 3 Jan, 6:13 AST_

Refresh.

_Subject: RE: Thinking of You Date: 15 Jan, 21:00 AST _

_Subject: Hey Date: 3 Jan, 6:13 AST _

Olivia collapses back against the couch with a sigh. It's been a full eight days since she's heard from him last. Is this what her life has become? Staring at her computer screen waiting for a few paragraphs from a guy half way around the world?

The knock on her door draws out a long sigh. It's probably Murph and Casey again, coming to try to cheer her up. She's entirely not in the mood, especially not after that horrific dream. It had been going on four in the morning when she was startled awake by it, and she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes again after that. There's no way she's going to subject herself to another nightmare again.

Another knock, but harder this time. Olivia stares at her computer screen.

_Subject: RE: Thinking of You Date: 15 Jan, 21:00 AST _

_Subject: Hey Date: 3 Jan, 6:13 AST_

"Olivia!" It's Murph. "C'mon, Detective, open up!"

"You want all my neighbors to hear you?" Olivia asks as she flings the front door open. Murph and Casey stand on her front stoop, smiles on both of their faces. She wonders how they can be so happy right now.

"Oh, what neighbors? The closest one isn't here, anyway," Murph says. "C'mon, we're taking you out."

"Again? Come on, guys. Thanks, but I just want to be alone today."

"On your birthday?" Casey says. "We don't think so. Put on something nice and get out here, we're taking you out!"

She sighs. "Alright, give me ten minutes."

—-

"Guys. I don't know about this place," Olivia says. They've pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant at the end of the pier.

"Why, you don't like seafood?"

"No, it's not that-

"Then c'mon."

Murph picks a table for them outside, two tables away from the one that Olivia and Elliot sat at on their very first date.

"We've got a surprise for you," Murph says. "Someone is really excited to wish you a Happy Birthday today."

"Oh, really? Who's that?"

"Turn around."

* * *

A/N: I know, I know, it was a horrible place to stop. I'm evil. But let me know what you think anyway! Also, manita is Spanish for little sister. Thanks to Mari on that one.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	26. Together

A/N: Hey, guys. I know the wait for this one was longer than usual, but I wanted to give you something especially good after the last two chapters. So, enjoy it :)

Thanks to Mari for always being an open ear, and to Jackie for her incredible enthusiasm. Love you both :) Aaaand, here we go...

* * *

The flight from Iraq to Germany is about eight hours. Elliot arrives in the early morning darkness, while the stars are still bright in the sky and the airport is deserted. The bathroom he enters to freshen up is empty, clean and smells like bleach. He changes into a pair of fresh pants and winces as his ribs pang in pain. His fingers brush along the deep purple bruise that has formed on his skin.

_Olivia's gonna love seeing that._

He pulls on his uniform shirt, tucks it in, then splashes some warm water over his head, face and arms. His muscles are tired and sluggish; the past couple of weeks have seen him getting very little sleep as the insurgency continues to pick up and the amount of patrols for his unit increases. He's more than happy to get a few days of rest before going back.

The sun is just starting to rise when he sits down in the middle of the empty terminal. His hand slips into the pocket of his jacket, and he takes out the thin metal case- the one that he hasn't been without since the left U.S. soil. He runs his thumb gently over her face, imagines it's her skin… jesus, he misses her skin. He misses the way she touches him, looks at him, speaks to him. This time can't go by quick enough, he can't wait to have her wrapped in his arms again.

Elliot snaps the case shut, puts it back in his pocket and makes his way over to the large window. The sky is lightening now, and the airport is coming alive as more people flood into the terminal. There's about forty-five minutes until his flight starts to board, then another fifteen hours until he finally reaches his destination. In short, it's gonna be a long, long day. In the end, though, it'll definitely be worth it.

—-

"We've got a surprise for you," Murph says. "Someone is really excited to wish you a Happy Birthday today."

"Oh, really? Who's that?"

"Turn around."

Olivia does so, and immediately freezes.

There he is, in a rumpled uniform, grin on his face, arms already opening for her.. I-is it really…? Is he…?

"Liv," he whispers, "C'mere."

Olivia's in his arms in a millisecond. He smells like soap, detergent and coffee, he's warm, his chest tightens as he embraces her. The world is frozen. There's nothing around her now, nothing except for his arms, his chest, his face as it presses into the crook of her neck, just breathing. There's no way this is a dream; it's entirely too real.

"Elliot," she whispers. The tears are soaking his uniform jacket now, but she can't stop them. She can't believe he's here, he's _here. _"_Elliot_."

His lips press against her temple as his hand runs gently up and down her back. "I'm here, Liv," he whispers. It's relief. It's love, it's that moment when you collapse into bed after a long day, the moment in the shower when the hot water first falls over your skin. It's Elliot.

_It's Elliot. _

"H-how?" she asks, pulling away just far enough to look him in the eyes.

Elliot smiles at her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. "I couldn't miss your birthday."

It's almost too much. Olivia grabs the back of his neck, and crashes her lips against his desperately.

It's like their first time all over again. Everything around them fades away, and the only thing she feels is his arms around her, his lips- dry and chapped- against hers. He returns her kiss just as passionately, and in that moment, she knows it's been just as awful for him, if not worse. More tears stream down her face.

His arm squeezes around her waist as they break apart. He gazes at her for a moment longer, that smile that reaches his entire face forming. Whenever she sees this smile, she can't help the feeling of warmth that spreads through her.

His eyes drift over her whole body for just a moment, then turn to the couple that still sits at the table, the ones Olivia had completely forgotten about. "Thanks for keeping the surprise, guys."

Murph approaches him, and gives a tight hug. "No problem, buddy."

Casey gives him a hug as well. "It's good to see you in one piece."

Elliot slides into the chair next to Olivia, smiling as he glances at the menu. "I'm still very much in one piece. Thanks, Case, it's good to see you, too."

The first thing Elliot orders is an ice cold beer. As soon as the waitress walks away, his hand comes down on her thigh, and his thumb runs over the material of her jeans lightly. That's all it takes- just one touch from him and she wants to drag him away from prying eyes and show him just how much she missed him. He drops his forehead against hers, kisses her again, and she wants nothing more than to deepen it, to forget about everyone around her except for him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Murph grin and reach for Casey's hand. Elliot's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and turns towards them. "Sorry, guys."

Murph shakes his head. "Don't worry, we both get it. Just don't start taking off clothes at the table."

Casey smacks him on the arm. "Be quiet, Murph."

The soldier chuckles. "They're the ones groping each other under the table. Not that I blame them."

Elliot squeezes Olivia's knee with a chuckle. "Glad someone at this table understands. I promise, there will be no more groping at the table."

"Speak for yourself," Olivia says.

That earns laughter from everyone.

—-

The waitress returns to take their orders. Elliot orders a surf and turf special, mumbling quietly about being starving for some 'real food', and Olivia bites back laughter when Murphy pulls his typical picky eater routine, asking which exact spices come on the seasoning for his fish. When the waitress walks away, Elliot's arm wraps around her waist and pulls her closer to his body. Her muscles immediately relax, and an almost euphoric sense drifts through the cracks in her brain. If she wasn't in public and their friends weren't sitting right across from her, the urge to push back her chair, straddle his hips and show him just how much she missed him would be overwhelming. She's not hungry anymore, not for food, anyway, can they just forget this whole thing and go home?

"I'll be right back," Olivia says halfway through one of Murph's stories about being stationed in Afghanistan. Elliot squeezes her leg as she gets up and heads for the restroom.

All of the stalls are empty when she enters. After taking care of her business and washing her hands, Olivia stares at the mirror for a moment, inspecting her reflection. She's not wearing any makeup today; she wasn't expecting to have to impress anyone, and her skin looks almost naked. She sighs; she knows that Elliot sometimes prefers her with no makeup at all, so she supposes this has worked out well.

_Elliot. He's here. I don't know for how long, but he's _**_here_**. The months seem to pass in years when he is gone.

Before Olivia can turn back to head through the dining room, a hand grabs her arm, yanks her through the back door, and a scream nearly escapes her before Elliot's voice is in her ear. "Shh."

Her back is against the wall of the restaurant, in the alley on the pier beside the building away from prying eyes. Elliot's lips are on hers. Her arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him closer, tongue slipping through his lips to taste him. His hand grabs her thigh and wraps it around his waist, and she moans as she feels his member straining though his trousers.

"Jesus Elliot," she whispers against his lips.

Elliot lowers his head and sucks at the base of her neck. She's half a second from ripping his clothes from his body, Jesus Christ, she needs him. Forget about this birthday dinner; she appreciates the thought, she really does, but in this moment, there's nothing she needs more than to collapse into bed with him, rip off his clothes and take everything he has to offer her.

"Think they'll notice if we ditch 'em?" he rumbles.

"We came in their car," she says.

His lips crash against hers once more. His hands struggle with the button of her pants, and she knows she should slap them away, but she just can't bring herself to do it.

His fingers brush over her mound, and even though the thin fabric of her underwear is still between them, she moans into his lips and bucks towards him.

"Shh."

Olivia palms him through his pants, and it's his turn to moan. He shoves her panties aside and his fingertips are just about to touch her when the door creaks open.

Elliot is against the railing of the pier before she knows it. She takes a deep breath, wiping her swollen lips. _Fuck. _

"I thought you guys were taking a little long in the bathroom. Trying to give a show?" It's Murph's voice. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest with an amused gleam in his eye. "The food's at the table, the quicker we go in and eat, the quicker you can go do that somewhere a little more comfortable. Like, I dunno, a bedroom?"

"Thanks, Murphy," Elliot says, rubbing his hand over his lips. "Give us a minute, huh?"

"Sure, but if you're not back in two minutes, I'm coming out here again." With that, Murph disappears back inside.

Elliot closes the distance between them. The kiss that he plants on her is gentle this time, and she can almost feel the restraint he's exercising. "A little bit longer," he whispers, leaning down to fasten the button of her pants. "Let's get back in there."

"Promise not to attack me again?" she asks, running her knuckles over his cheekbone. "Because if you do, I don't think I'll be able to restraint myself."

Elliot chuckles. "I'll try my best."

"There they are," Murph says, a knowing grin spread across his face as Elliot and Olivia approach the table. "We were worried you weren't coming back."

"Yeah, well I'm starving," Elliot says as he digs into the big piece of juicy steak on his plate.

"For more than just food," Murph says, grinning.

Casey elbows him while Elliot just chuckles, popping a piece of steak into his mouth. "You have no idea."

—-

Dinner is slow. Paying the bill is slow, and when Elliot and Olivia slide into the back of Murph's Jeep together, the seconds may as well be days because Olivia swears the glowing numbers _7:03 _on the radio have been there for hours. She sits in the middle of the backseat with Elliot's arm wrapped around her. Her head rests against his shoulder as her fingertips run lightly along his upper thigh, along the tan patterns that stretches across that material of his pants.

His leg twitches and his arm tightens around her as he murmurs in her ear. "Hey. Watch that hand."

The smile on her face widens as she answers, "Why? That's no fun."

The warmth of Elliot's large hand comes down on her leg. She swallows as it travels up a little higher. "Is this fun?" His voice is low, gravelly, and it goes straight to her core.

"Hey. I see the two of you back there," Murph says. "Hands where I can see them."

"Next time I surprise you, I'll come right to your door," Elliot says, dropping his head onto the top of hers. "Quiet up there, Staff Sergeant."

Murph simply chuckles. They're pulling into Elliot and Olivia's neighborhood now, and her heart is beating faster. The car can't move fast enough. Jesus, it's never taken so long to reach the house.

As soon as the front door closes, Olivia's lips crash down on Elliot's. He stumbles out of his boots as she unzips his jacket and lets it drop to the floor. His green t-shirt still prevents him from touching his skin, and she's never cursed a piece of fabric so much in her entire life. He walks her backwards blindly, attempting to make his way down the hall into her bedroom, but walls seem to be materializing out of nowhere. It's a miracle when they finally make it into the dark room.

His need is visceral. Her body is hot against his, his skin is fire that's melting through the layer of clothing between them, aching to feel her, to touch and be touched. The last time someone touched him, they were trying to end his life.

She's pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, but his lips will not move from their place fused with hers. Olivia finally groans in frustration, pulls her lips away from his and yanks it over his head. The millisecond that their mouths are apart is longer than those entire two months. He can't get them back together fast enough.

Goosebumps rise on his skin as the pads of her fingers run down his chest. He crushes her body against hers, pulling at her clothes, all sensible thoughts draining from him quicker than blood from an open wound. He needs their clothes gone. He can't pull his lips away from hers long enough to complete the task.

Luckily, Olivia seems to have a smidgen more sense than he does. She unbuttons his pants, shoving them down. He takes steps forward, completely forgetting about the pants that still rest around his ankles, and goes crashing to the floor, taking Olivia with her. She lands on the carpet, his body covering hers.

"Sorry," he rumbles against her lips.

"Kiss me and make it better."

Elliot yanks her shirt over her head and finally, some relief trickles in, but it's not enough. Not yet, not until he's buried so far inside of her that he doesn't know where he stops and she begins.

"El," she moans against his lips.

Her voice leaves him breathless. He raises his head, focuses in on her, and has to swallow the lump that rises in his throat. Warmth fills his chest so fully that he fears it's going to burst. "I missed you," he whispers, dropping his forehead against hers. His arm tightens around her waist, pressing their bodies even closer, if that's possible. "_So much_."

"I missed you," she answers, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes moisten. Her hands then squeeze his butt playfully. "Now keep going, damn it."

He chuckles, then presses their lips together once more.

Neither of them have the patience for foreplay; not this time. That will have to wait until later. As soon as they divest each other of their final pieces of clothing, Elliot is raising her leg and easing his way into her.

With him buried so far inside of her, she finally feels complete again. His stomach presses against hers, his arms wrap around her waist and his weight is so incredibly comfortable on her. Not to mention the feeling between her legs… he hasn't even started moving yet, and she already feels like she's going to explode.

When he thrusts the first time, it's almost too much. Her nails rake down his back and she moans. Elliot groans in return and drops his forehead to hers. "Jesus, Liv…"

"Baby," she says breathlessly, hips bucking. He returns with a rough thrust, and doesn't stop. His arm loops around her waist, drawing her hips up as he rocks into her.

She's in heaven. The carpet scraping against her back, the cool air on her skin, none of that matters because he's here again, finally on her, finally in her.

His hips rock faster, his head drops into the crook of her neck. She moans along with him with each thrust. Finally, he buries as deep as he can get, squeezes her, and she feels his climax, which brings on her own. She holds his body to hers with a death grip, clenches her eyes shut, and crumbles around him. It's the most amazing feeling.

Elliot doesn't pull out; not yet. He raises his head and kisses her as his chest heaves. She can almost hear his heart pound. He looks straight into her eyes, and she looks right back for a long, silent moment, both of their bodies still as statues.

Finally, her hand moves. She cups his cheek for a moment, then leans up to kiss him. As he leaves her body, they both moan.

"C'mon," he rumbles gently, kneeling and lifting her up into his arms. His muscles strain from the combination of effort and exhaustion. He pulls back the blanket, sets her down, and slips into bed next to her. She pulls the sheet over them both, then curls her body into his.

Olivia's eyes drift over his body. The sheet rises halfway up his chest, there's a few days worth of stubble on his cheeks. The bags are clearly defined under his drooping eyes. It's the first time since she's seen him that she's noticed the exhaustion so clearly etched into his face. Her hand runs over his cheek gently, she smiles, and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "When's the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

Elliot shrugs. "Don't remember."

She pulls him closer, taking the time to run her hands over his tense muscles. "Get some rest, El."

He nuzzles her neck, breathes her in, and nods, arms tightening around her. "Love you. Happy Birthday."

"Thanks," she whispers. "You're the perfect gift."

A smile twitches across his lips as his eyes slide shut. Olivia listens carefully to his breathing in the darkened silence of the bedroom. In… out… in… out… his breaths are growing more deep and even with each moment, and finally, she knows he's asleep. Olivia then focuses on her hand rising and falling softly on the top of his chest, and a tear slowly makes its way down her cheek. The track dries on her skin, and when she can no longer feel the wetness, she finally lets her eyes slide shut.

—-

The first thing that comes into Olivia's consciousness is the solid form next to her. When she opens her eyes, the room is dark, but she can still manage to make out the lines of his face, relaxed as he sleeps next to her. His arm, which seemingly hasn't moved since she drifted off, is wrapped loosely around her waist.

Olivia doesn't even care anymore if this is a dream or not. He's here for the moment, and his presence soothes her, awakens her, elicits feelings in her heart that she still doesn't quite understand.

Elliot stirs and his arm tightens around her as he takes a deep breath. "Hey," he whispers into the darkness.

"Hi," she answers.

Simultaneously, they both lean forward and their lips meet. It's not the desperate, eager kiss they shared before earlier that night. This time, it's gentle and almost soothing. Olivia's discovered that she loves when he kisses her like this the most. It's the time when she really knows how much she means to him.

They kiss for a few minutes before Elliot eases her onto her back and settles between her legs. He's already hardening once again against her thigh. Her heels run along the backs of his calves as he finds her opening. Olivia moans softly as he slowly slides into her once again.

"Okay?" he asks softly, stilling for a moment to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," she whispers. Her hips roll upwards to meet him, and he begins his slow thrusts.

It's slow this time. Neither of them say a word, so the only sounds are their soft vocalizations of pleasure. Olivia's eyes are closed. Her hands are on his back, warm and damp with sweat, muscles flexing as he moves within her. His scent surrounds her, his lips are on her neck, and she's lost within him.

Light suddenly hits the back of her eyes, and she hears scampering on the carpet and the panting. Olivia's eyes snap open as a black and brown beast leaps onto the bed. Brutus licks Elliot happily. Elliot gives him a pet, then a push. "C'mon, boy, go lay down. I'm busy."

Brutus isn't having it. He whines and shoves his snout between them, eyes pleading, _'I haven't seen you, either, give me love, too!'_

Elliot groans in displeasure, "First Murph, now Brutus. I don't think we're ever gonna get some peace."

Her quiet chuckle turns into a moan as he slides out of her. Elliot pets Brutus for a moment, then grabs his collar, guiding him back out of the room. "I love you, boy, but we can't play right now." Elliot gives him one more pet. "Go lay down."

He makes sure he closes the door this time before climbing back on top of Olivia. "Now, where were we?"

Olivia runs her hand over his member, squeezing lightly before guiding him back to her entrance. "I think you were somewhere around here."

Elliot shutters as he slides deep back into her. "Oh, yeah, I remember now."

His forehead drops to hers as he begins to move once again.

Their peace lasts for about thirty seconds before the clawing of nails on wood filters in into the room. Olivia's head drops back against the pillow as Elliot groans. "That dog isn't giving up."

Brutus whines and claws at the door once again as Olivia answers, "No, he's not. Might as well let him back in."

He gives a rough thrust, and Olivia gasps in pleasure. "Don't want to."

"I know," she breathes, raking her nails down his back. "I don't want you to either. But he's not gonna give up."

Elliot leans down for one more burning kiss, then pads over to the door to let the shepherd back in. "There you go. Happy now?"

Brutus jumps up onto Elliot's chest and starts licking happily once again, tail wagging a mile a minute. A smile comes across Elliot's face as he pets the beast. "Alright, alright, I'm not mad at you."

Brutus gives him one more lick, then jumps up onto the bed. As soon as Elliot's settled back next to Olivia, he plops down between them, curling up into a ball. Olivia smiles, running her hand over his soft coat. "Well, at least someone's happy."

Elliot reaches out to rest on hand on her arm, then leans over for a kiss. "I dunno about you," he begins gently, "but I'm laying here with the ones I love the most. So I'm pretty damn happy, too." He glances down at Brutus. "And I'll be even happier later when this one is either outside or eating breakfast so we can finish what we started."

Olivia laughs. "I think I will be, too."

As the glowing red numbers strike 3:00, Elliot, Olivia and Brutus all lay in a big pile of limbs, dead to the world.

—-

Elliot wakes again just as dim early morning light filters into through the blinds. He's dazed for a moment before the memory of the previous night all come back to him, bringing a smile to his face. He's back next to her where he belongs, and it's the most wonderful feeling.

Next to him, Brutus stirs, and gives him a tired lick on the cheek. He runs a hand gently over his back. "Let's go get you some breakfast."

Brutus jumps out of bed, waits patiently as Elliot pulls on his pants, and trots after him out to the kitchen. The bag of dog food sits on the top of the refrigerator. Elliot pours some into the bowl on the floor, then pats the dog on the top of his head. "It's good to see you, boy."

Olivia's laying on her back in bed. He stops in the doorway, his breathing catching in his throat as his eyes drift over her form. The sheet pools around her waist, leaving her upper body bare for him to appreciate. Jesus, she's perfect… what did he ever do to deserve her?

"Whatcha doin' over there?" she murmurs sleepily. Her arms open for him. "C'mere."

He smiles, uncrosses his arms, then slips back into bed next to her. She snuggles against him as he sits against the headboard. The hole in his chest that's existed since he left is filled by just being here with her- her holding him, him holding her. Her skin is warm and soft against his… _home. _She's his home, wherever she is.

"Jesus, what happened?" Olivia's words break him out of his trance. Elliot glances at her fingers as they slide along the large purple bruise that still mars his ribcage.

"El," she whispers.

"Got shot," he rumbles. "Bullet didn't make it through my vest."

Her swallow is audible. Olivia wraps her arms around him tightly, and kisses his neck. "Please be careful over there."

"I am, 'Livia," he answers. "I promise."

Olivia leans up and kisses him. "You better."

"You're crazy if you think I'd leave someone like you behind," he murmurs.

Olivia's eyes water. She cups his cheeks in both hands, "You would be."

With that, she slips her leg over his waist to straddle him. They hold each other's gaze for a moment longer before she slides down onto him. Elliot's hands meet her hips and his head falls back against the headboard as he fills her once again.

Their bodies move together. Her nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, they catch burning kisses and Elliot silently wishes that this would never end. God, this feels so good… and not even just the sex, but being so close to her again, being able to look into her eyes, run his fingers across her skin, bury his nose into her neck and inhale her sweet scent. He wishes that he could bottle her up and take her everywhere he goes.

"El," she whispers, and it's the sweetest thing he's ever heard.

"Say that again," he says.

"Elliot," she says. "Jesus, that… feels so good…"

Elliot moans, and squeezes his eyes shut as he thrusts up into her. "I'm gonna… y-you're gonna make me…"

Her hips roll faster. He slams his head back against the headboard and he swears he's bruising her hips from how tightly he's holding her, but he's not in control of his body anymore.

Her lips are at his ear. She kisses his neck, then whispers, "Come."

He can't take it anymore. He slams her down onto him, buries himself as deep as he can get, and his head falls against her shoulder as his climax drowns him.

When he comes back down from his high, his arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, his forehead is against his shoulder and he's still trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head and kisses her. "Definitely worth the wait," he breathes.

"Definitely," Olivia parrots.

They settle back down on the mattress. Elliot runs his hands gently through her hair as a smile spreads across his face. "I love you," he says, "so much."

"I love you, too," she whispers.

The sun is rising higher in the sky now, and warm morning light fills the room. Elliot pulls her closer to him, and together, they both cherish these moments that they're finally together again.

* * *

A/N: Please leave your thoughts. :) Hope you enjoyed.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	27. Withdraw

A/N: Dedicated to Mari whose review gave me inspiration and Jackie... well, Jackie, you'll see why. I'm about to be late for work so please enjoy.

* * *

"Good morning," he whispers, a grin spreading across his face. His body rolls on top of hers, and she breathes in deeply. His skin smells like soap; Irish Springs, she thinks.

"Morning," Olivia answers. Her arms slip around his neck and her legs spread to accommodate him. His weight is warm, his bare skin feels like home against hers.

His fingers tangle through her hair. He leans down to kiss her, and his lips feel light against hers.

"Don't just lay there," she says as they break apart. "Make love to me."

He kisses her again. How can his lips be so feather light while still projecting all of his feelings onto her? How can he make her feel so complete? She can feel him against her, so close to filling her once again, but that relief never comes. Her hand reaches up to touch his face, but it meets only air. He's not here anymore. The only thing that lays over her body is his blanket, that still smells like him.

To make matters even worse, bile bubbles up in her throat, and she barely makes it to the bathroom before emptying her stomach. she flushes the toilet, then falls back against the tub. Her whole body shakes. Her throat and eyes sting as she drops her head into her arms and tries to catch her breath.

If he was here, he'd ask her if she's okay. He'd rub her back, kiss her temple, and wait for her to wash her mouth out before guiding her back into bed. He'd be worried sick about her, but it would be endearing rather than irritating. She'd convince him that she's okay and fall back to sleep in his arms. And when she'd wake up, he'd still be there, holding her close, smiling at her, running the pads of his calloused fingers over her skin.

But he's not here. So instead of trying to sleep, Olivia sits up against the headboard and reaches for her laptop.

**_Subject: Hey Date: 14 Feb, 20:00 AST_**

_Subject: Back Safe Date: 26 Jan, 20:00 AST _

_Subject: RE: Thinking of You Date: 15 Jan, 21:00 AST _

_To: __OBenson4015 _

_From: _

_Subject: Hey_

_Date: 14 Feb, 07:00 AST_

_Hey, _

_Happy Valentine's Day. I left you something in my drawer. It's not much, but I saw it and thought you'd like it. _

_I won't be able to call you today, but maybe some time next week. How's work going? Tell Raúl I say hello. Hey, listen to this, we're almost halfway through the deployment already. Then I'll be all yours again. _

_-El_

Jesus Christ, they're not even halfway through this. Olivia's head falls back against the headboard and she sighs. _Not even halfway through. _

_I left you something in your drawer. _

Maybe it's a confirmation for another flight to come back and see her.

Olivia stands. When she opens the drawer of his dresser, there's a black box resting on top of his socks. She takes it out, sits down on the mattress, and opens it slowly. Inside, there's a small piece of folded up paper. On the light blue lines, his slanted scrawl greets her.

_As long as you're in my life, I couldn't be happier. I love you. _

_-El _

_P.S. There's an engraving on the inside. _

A silver bracelet sits on the bed of white satin. Olivia takes it out then turns it slowly in her hands to look at the inside. Elegant, fine lines engraved into the metal make up the words _Semper Fidelis. _Tears sprout in her eyes as a smile plays across her face. Leave it to him to somehow make her smile during a moment like this.

Olivia slips the bracelet onto her wrist and holds her hand out to take a good look. It fits perfectly. She loves it.

_To: _

_From: __OBenson4015 _

_Subject: RE: Hey _

_Date: 14 Feb, 08:00 PST_

_Hey, _

_The bracelet's beautiful, El. Thank you. _

_I'm off today, but I'll tell Raúl you say hello tomorrow when I go back. Almost halfway through, huh? Hopefully it goes by fast. I miss you. _

_Be safe. _

_-Liv_

_—__-_

Elliot closes the email with a grin. He'd seen the bracelet in Germany, and he knew he had to get it for her.

Yawning, he powers down the computer and checks his watch as he heads towards the bunks. It's one o'clock in the morning in Iraq, so what is it in California? Just after noon? Olivia's probably on her lunch break… probably with Raúl, eating at the Mexican restaurant he told her about, the one he loves. He's never been more envious of Olivia's work partner… he the almost wishes he could be there, working with her, helping people with her. They very few times he got to see her sitting at her desk, face screwed up in concentration over a piece of paperwork, staring intently at some piece of evidence as she tried to put it all together, his heart jumped. What would it be like working with that every day?

_Benson and Stabler_ _sounds pretty damn good together. _

Somehow, the thought of working with her just seems… _right_.

Maybe in another life, he muses. Not now. Now, here's here in Iraq and she's nearly eight thousand miles away. It might as well be a million.

Elliot slips into his bunk, and pulls the thin sheet around him. His fingers itch to reach out and pull her to his body. He wants to bury his face into her soft hair and fall asleep to the sounds of her even breathing.

His heavy eyelids slide shut as he tries to push the memories of Olivia out of his head. Tomorrow is the beginning of a tough week, so he's determined to have a good night of sleep tonight.

—-

It's going on six o'clock in the morning, and Olivia and Raúl have been working on a missing child's case for nearly twenty-four hours. Just as they were about to leave last night, they'd gotten a call and Olivia's plans of an early night had turned into an extra twelve hours of work. That's alright, she probably wouldn't have been able to sleep, anyway. It's been getting harder and harder to drift off these days, no matter how exhausted she is.

"Feeling okay?" Raúl asks, hand coming down her shoulder. "You look awful pale."

"I'm fine," Olivia says. Jesus, what did she eat? She feels nauseated all of the sudden. "I-I just have to-

Bile rises in her throat as she pushes past Raúl on her way to the bathroom. She makes it to the ladies room just in time.

Olivia takes a deep breath, flushes the toilet, and makes her way to the sink to wash out her mouth and face. She stares at herself in the mirror for a moment. Her muscles are tired and fatigued, throat dry, when's the last time she had a drink? The last time she ate? It's the second time in a week she's thrown up… maybe it's…

No. She needs a nice meal and a good, long sleep, that's all. There's nothing else wrong with her, it can't be…Not when he's so far away, not when his deployment's end is barely visible on the horizon. _Hey, guess what? I'm almost halfway through. _ Tears form her eyes. She's cold and alone. Her body is betraying her; the only thing she wants to do is crawl into bed with a warm body beside her. She wants him to hold her, rub her back, kiss away the empty feeling in her heart and the fear that now clenches her stomach.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _

The world is suddenly spinning around her. Olivia reaches for the sink to regain her balance, but before she knows what's happening, the ground is rushing up towards her.

—-

Olivia's head is killing her. A soft groan escapes before her eyes flutter open to fluorescent lights beaming down on her.

"Hey," a gentle voice greets. _Elliot? _

No. It's Murph, sitting beside her in his Army fatigues. "Welcome back, Liv."

"What happened?" she asks, taking a glance around the room. It's small, white and varying machines surround her bed. Murph sits next to her in an uncomfortable plastic blue chair. Hospital. What's she doing in the hospital?

"Raúl told me you took a dive in the ladies room at work. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Olivia 's nothing wrong with her. She feels fine now, she'd been right before. Just dehydration and exhaustion, nothing else. "Can I get out of here? I've got work to do."

"I think the doctor wanted to talk to you. I'll go see if I can find her."

Murph returns with Casey and a short woman with long, brown hair pulled into a messy bun. She wears glasses, a deep blue blouse under a white lab coat that reminds Olivia of Elliot's eyes, and gray slacks.

"Hi, Olivia," she says. "I'm Doctor Mitchell. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," she says. "What happened?"

"Well, you were pretty severely dehydrated. We put you on fluids and ran some blood work."

"Did everything come back okay?"

"You're perfectly healthy," Doctor Mitchell says, "but something did come up. Have you been to see a doctor recently?"

Olivia glances to Casey and Murph, then back to the doctor. "Uh, not recently. Why?"

"Well, the hCG level in your blood was about 100,000," Mitchell says. "HCG is the hormone that's produced during pregnancy."

"Excuse me?" No. No, no, no, no. It can't be…

"Olivia, you're pregnant."

Suffocating silence falls over the room. Olivia opens her mouth to speak, but nothing's coming out. _Pregnant… pregnant…_

It's the worst possible time. She's nowhere near ready for this; they've never talked about it, he's never even made any inkling of a remark about wanting kids, or even if he likes kids. Even if he did, he's gone now. He's gone and she's left behind with the shattered pieces that remain.

"Olivia?" Casey asks quietly.

"Uhm," Olivia says, running her shaking hand through her hair. "C-could you guys give us a minute?"

"Of course," Casey reaches out to squeeze Olivia's shoulder. "We'll be right outside when you need us. C'mon, Murph."

Murph gives Olivia one last smile, and leaves the room, letting the door close softly behind him. He stands in the hallway with Casey for a few long moments, silent as he lets the news sink in.

_My buddy's gonna be a dad._

"We've got to call Elliot."

"That's not up to us," Casey says. "She has to be the one to tell him, Shay."

Murph's jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth, looking through the window at Olivia before his gaze turns back to Casey. "If if were you, I'd wanna know right away."

"Even if you were deployed halfway around the world?" Casey's thumb brushes across his jawline. "We don't even know if we can get ahold of him. Right now, we've got to support Liv."

_"__Listen, I gotta ask you somethin'. I know she's not gonna want it… but could you just look after her for me?"_

Murph made a promise to him, a promise that he intends to keep. "Alright."

Olivia and the Doctor Mitchell speak for a moment longer before the short woman slips through the door. She glances between the two of them, "You two can go back in now."

They both murmur their thanks, walk back into the small room, and Casey immediately takes a seat beside Olivia. "You okay?"

"He left three months ago, Case. Three months, I'm _three months _pregnant." Olivia wipes both hands over her face. "How could this happen?"

Murph crosses the room, sits down at the end of her bed, and smiles. "By having a really good time before a deployment."

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Oh, stop."

"Hey, you asked." Murph chuckles and pats her knee above the blanket. "Congratulations, Liv. This is gonna be great! A little El and Liv running around, imagine that."

_A little El and Liv running around. _

_Elliot._

"Liv?" Casey asks gently. "When's the last time you spoke with him?"

"A few days ago."

Casey nods. "You have to tell him."

"I will." Olivia swallows, sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and chews furiously on it. "The next time he calls, I'll tell him."

—-

It's hard to keep focus after hours and hours of staring at the same empty building.

Elliot's cheek rests against the stock of his rifle as he stares through the sights. They're on a roof a couple of buildings away, surveilling the area, looking for insurgents. This is the type of stuff that's in his job description as reconnaissance, but sometimes it's the worst. These are the times that he's left to his thoughts. He's left to contemplate exactly how long he has until he can see her again.

Is this what his life has come down to? He used to love his job, didn't mind the dangers of deployment. Now all's he can think of is her. It's like… he's _dependent_ on her.

He's not sure whether it's a good thing or a bad thing.

Elliot's just about to shift his weight to reach for his canteen when the unmistakable whistle of a mortar makes him freeze.

"INCOMING!"

_CRACK. CRACK. _

_"__Stay the _**_fuck_**_ down!" _

He's on his feet, half stumbling, half sprinting. His ears are still ringing when he reaches Shane, who's bleeding and gasping for breath near the gaping hole that the mortar made.

"G-Gunny…"

"Hang in there, Shane." Elliot shoves the pack off of his shoulders, then surveys the damage. The front of his vest has been blown to pieces, his helmet is halfway across the roof and Shane's face is turning deathly pale. Elliot's muscles strain as he pulls the sergeant down the stairs of the building to the first landing. "Corpsman!"

Everything happens in a blur. He recognizes his voice, yelling over the radio to get support at their location. Bullets whiz over his head, hit the cement around them as he fires across the way.

And then the shooting stops, just like it never started in the first place. Elliot flicks his safety on, quickly taking note of the rest of the men. They're unscathed for the most part, except a small scrape that Slater is treating on his arm.

Back inside, Shane's not so lucky. He's laying against the wall as Burns works on him, deathly pale and still. The amount of blood that stain his uniform and the floor below him is far too much to even be able to walk away from. Elliot feels completely and utterly helpless as he watches Burns work desperately, trying to stop the blood and start an IV.

It doesn't take long for him to glance at Elliot, and sit back on his heels. Shane's labored breaths have ceased.

A deafening silence blows over them. Slater approaches, then Rodriguez and Allen. Elliot's throat is closing, making each breath he takes almost painful.

"Slater, get on the radio," he rasps. His eyes fix on the vehicle, now a burning mess of twisted metal. _It could have been much worse_, he thinks. _We could all be dead right now. _"See how far out our support is. Munch, Allen, security. Keep your eyes open."

—-

They don't arrive back to base for another seven hours. By the time they do, Elliot can see the exhaustion written all over their faces. He tells them to drop off their gear and rest for a little while. They've got another mission scheduled for the night, so their afternoon is free.

Elliot doesn't think about sleeping. Instead, he drops down across from Garrett and the conference table, and takes a deep breath.

"They just sent out the notification team," Garrett says. "Should be getting there within the hour."

Elliot nods.

"Want to talk?"

"He would have been back in the States, in prison if I hadn't convinced Olivia otherwise," he says finally. His eyes meet Garrett's. "I thought I was doing him a favor, but he ended up paying the price, anyway."

"That's bullshit and you know it. You think this is your fault?"

Elliot shoves himself away from the table. "He got out going to prison just to get…" The lump in his throat threatens to choke him. "Just to get killed by a shit head with an AK-47."

No matter how long he does this job, each loss with be just as difficult as the last. Elliot finally drops into the chair next to the telephone, and takes a deep breath. He knows he shouldn't call her now, not now when his emotions are teetering, but he needs to talk to her. Only her voice will be able to calm him.

—-

Olivia's in the living room when her phone rings. "Hello?"

"Hey," he greets softly. "How're you doing?"

"Okay," she says. _You have to tell him. You have to. _"Everything going okay over there?"

"Uh," he chokes, "yeah, everything's fine."

"Elliot." Her fear is immediately pushed to the side as she hears the pain in his voice. She sits up and presses the phone closer to her ear. "What happened?"

"Nothin'."

"Tell me," she says. Her heart is racing in her chest. "Elliot, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothin's wrong," he rumbles. "Just miss you."

He's lying. She knows without a doubt he's lying; his voice has that same twinge it had months ago, sitting in front of the fire, talking about… talking about…

"Who was it?" she asks quietly, moisture sprouting in her eyes. "Who'd you lose?"

"Damn it, Liv, why do you-

"I know you."

Silence. Olivia draws her knees to her chest, and bites her lip, willing the tears to stay locked in her eyes. Thank God he can't see her right now.

"I didn't call you to unload," he mumbles. "I just wanted to hear your voice, I… I really do miss you." She almost hears the tremor that overcomes him. "Jesus, I miss you."

"I miss you," she whispers. "Please… talk to me."

"We… we lost a guy." He sighs. "Shane."

All the air flies from her lungs. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out; her heart has dropped into the pit of her stomach. She shouldn't be this shocked. She knew what he would be getting into by going over there, but hearing about this is completely different than just thinking about it.

"You still there?" he asks.

"I'm here," she says finally. "I-I'm so sorry, El. Are… are you okay?"

"I'm fine. The rest of us are fine," he says. There's a long pause before he asks, "How are you doing?"

"Fine," she says. _We lost a guy._

"That's good. How's work?"

"I-it's okay." _Shane. _"Listen, I've got to go. Sergeant's on the other line."

"Okay." She can tell he's trying to hide the disappointment in his tone, but she hears it, loud and clear. It makes even more tears pool in her eyes. "I love you, Liv."

"I love you too," she whispers, and the line goes dead.

The mechanic beep of the dial tone is drown out by all of the raging thoughts in her head. _It could be him next. What if it had been? He'd be… and then you'd be all alone. All alone, all alone to raise a… _she can't do this. She can't, she can't wait for him to leave her, can't… it's over. This is over, it's _over_, she has to get out of here.

The tears stream down her face as she jumps to her feet. Brutus glances up at her from his spot in the corner of the room, then goes back to napping contently, blissfully unaware of the thoughts that rage in her head.

She can't stick around and wait for a pair of Marines to show up at her doorstep and tell her he's gone. She's going to get out of here.

* * *

A/N: Please let me know what you think!


	28. Roots

A/N: Hey, everyone! And greetings to all the new readers out there. I love all you guys.

Sorry it took me so long to get this one out, but here it is, an early Christmas gift. OR Hanukkah gift to those of you out there.

Thanks to Mari. Without her, this chapter probably wouldn't exist. Love you, bb.

* * *

Elliot doesn't have many pictures up at his place. Olivia's never seen any of his parents, she's barely even seen any of him at all. There's only one picture in a frame in his entire house, and it sits proudly on the wall behind the couch. It's of her and him the night of the Marine Corps ball. He's in his uniform, she's in the dress that so perfectly matched the red trim of his jacket and they both look happier than she's ever seen either of them. They're caught mid dance; her left arm is wrapped around his neck and his right sits on her waist. Their fingers are interlaced and there are big smiles covering both of their faces. Her head is just barely touching his shoulder… he smelled so good that night. She just wanted to bury her face in his neck and breathe, ballroom full of people be damned.

Olivia stands from the couch and approaches the frame. Her fingers trace over lines of his face, then down his arm until it meets her body. He looks so happy. So proud- whether it's because of the uniform he wears or the fact that she stands wrapped up with him, she's not sure. It's probably a little bit of both.

"Elliot," she says. Her lips miss whispering those three syllables. Her fingertips miss brushing over his warm skin. Her legs miss wrapping around his waist as he fills her so completely. Every inch of her body misses every inch of his; it's a yearning that has become almost physically painful.

Olivia wipes away her tears, and inhales deeply. This emptiness in her chest brought on by his absence is terrible enough; she can't imagine what it would be like to…

She swallows, shaking that thought out of her head. It will always make her sick, no matter how much she's thought about it, tried to prepare herself for it. She just can't let herself go through that kind of pain. That's why she has to leave now, that's why she has to get out of this before it's too late.

In the corner, Brutus's ears perk and he raises his head to look at her.

She wonders briefly what he thinks Elliot is doing. Does Brutus know how much danger he's in? Or is he ignorant, just like she wishes she could be?

Olivia sighs. She hopes he doesn't know. At least one of the two of them should be happy right now. "C'mon, boy."

On the way out, she turns out all the lights and locks the door.

* * *

Murph hates to admit it, but he's worried. The last time he saw Olivia, she was definitely worse for the wear. That's the reason he's pulling into her driveway now. Before he walks up the pavement to the front door, he glances across the yard to the empty, dark house and the gray truck. Usually, if he wasn't on a deployment as well, Elliot would have asked him to watch the house and check up on Brutus at the boarding place. It was always an agreement that they had; they'd watch out for each other at home while the other was gone. Now, he has the woman next door to do that for him.

He sighs, makes his way up to the front door and knocks twice. If he doesn't have to worry about Elliot's home or his pet, the least he can do is watch out for the woman that he's been sharing his life with.

A moment passes without a sound from within. He bangs again, and again, nothing.

"Hey, Liv!" he shouts. "I know you're in there, c'mon, open up!"

Finally, the door swings open. Olivia looks absolutely exhausted. There are bags under her eyes, a deep frown on her face and more lines on her face than he remembers. Murph's eyes flit down to her stomach, where a small bump has started to form. Murph almost can't believe there's a baby forming in there.

"Can I come in?" Murph asks gently.

Olivia chews on her lip and her gaze falls. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I just want to sit and talk."

Finally, Olivia steps aside. Murph crosses over the threshold into the living room, and takes a look around. There's a few suitcases stacked in the corner, filled, zipped up and ready to go.

When Murph's eyes meet Olivia's, she can't help but see the accusation that's brewing there. "Going on a trip somewhere?"

Olivia sighs, and crosses her arms over her chest as her eyes drop from his. "What do you want?"

"I came to see how my best friend's girl is doing. But clearly you don't need anyone's help, huh? That why you're running off?"

"Mind your own business, Murphy."

"Elliot is my brother. And you're one of the biggest parts of his life. So you know what, that makes you my business." Murph shakes his head. "You're just gonna leave? Really, that's what you're gonna do, just pack up and let him figure out what the hell happened all on his own?"

"I have to go," she protests weakly. "I have to go so…"

"So what? So you can be all alone again? So you can be a single mother when there's a guy that's coming back in a few months that will be more than happy to be a father to his own child? Tell me, Olivia, because I just don't seem to understand what's so brilliant about this idea."

"So _he_ doesn't leave _me_!"

Murph opens his mouth, but he freezes when her words hit him. "What?"

Olivia's arms tighten around her as her gaze falls. She can't stand to look in those eyes, that she can already see betrayal in so clearly. "You heard me. I have packing to do."

She turns away from him, but Murph quickly closes the distance between them. "You're gonna… what kind of sense does that make?"

"Just leave me alone." Her tears fill her eyes completely, making it impossible to see clearly. Her hands shake, and she feels like collapsing right where she stands; her need for her Marine is overwhelming, and without him sitting by her side or the promise of his return in sight, she can't stand it.

"No," he says. "Olivia, listen to what you're saying. You're gonna leave him before he leaves you?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

Her hands are shaking. As much as she tries to shove the memories out of her head, she can feel his hands are on her, so gentle… he knows exactly how to touch her to drive her crazy.

And then his hands are gone. She can't bear to go the rest of her life without feeling those hands again, she can't live without the promise of his lips against her own. But then again, she can't feel the agony of losing him. It's just easier this way.

"Don't do this to him. Never mind that, don't do this to _yourself,_" he pauses, and then adds softly, "or the baby."

"Please," she mumbles. "Just leave me alone."

A long moment of silence washes over them. Finally, Murph lets out a defeated sigh. "Fine. You're a grown woman, you're gonna make your own decisions. But please… just think real hard about what you're doing before you go through with this. Think about what you're giving up."

With that, he gives her a pat on the back, and the last thing she hears from him is the slam of her door.

Olivia crumples onto the couch as a shaking breath expels from her lungs. She knows exactly what she'd be giving up… but she needs to get out of here. It's impossible to think clearly here, when everything reminds her of him, where she can't turn around without memories of him jolting her.

She has to learn to live without him again. She has to go back home.

* * *

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: ShamusMurphy_

_Subject: Hey_

_Date: 26 Feb, 22:00 PST_

_How's it going, buddy?_

_Listen, I don't wanna put any more stress on you out there, but you better send Olivia an email. _

_Shoot straight. _

_\- M_

Elliot's seeing double. He's glad the email is short, because if it was any longer, he doesn't think he'd be able to focus long enough to read it. It's the first time he's been back here in about a week; the last time he slept was for about an hour and a half nearly two days ago.

_Liv. I have to talk to Liv. _

If he tries to send her an email now, it will probably just be an unintelligible mess of letters. He needs to sleep.

In the middle of the night, he startles awake. Everything is dark around him… everything except the form that now perches on the end of his bed. It's Olivia. There's a deep frown on her face, tears in her eyes, bottom lip sucked between her teeth as she watches him.

"Livia?" he mumbles, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "What're y'doin'… what'samatter?"

"I can't live like this anymore," she whispers. "I can't sit around waiting for you to come home. It's killing me."

His blood turns to ice. Fear pierces his stomach like a knife; her words are like a kick to the gut. No, no, no. They've talked about this. She can't be serious, this can't be real. "We're halfway through, we're almost there…"

"I can't wait for you any longer," she says. "I can't do it, Elliot."

He sits up and reaches for her. He's got to touch her. Maybe his skin on hers will soothe her, maybe taking her into his arms will change her mind.

Just as his fingertips are about to brush across her shoulder, she's gone.

Elliot's eyes snap open. His heart's pounding harder than any combat nightmare he's had- so hard that it's painful. He clutches at his chest, clenches his eyes closed as he tries to dispel the sickness in his stomach. That look of utter despair and sorrow in her eyes was so real… so real, so heart shattering.

_Is that what she's like back home? _

Murph's words echo in the back of his mind. _I don't wanna put any more stress on you out there, but you better send Olivia an email. _

Elliot's got to know what's going on. He can't call her, not now, but he's got to talk to her. Whatever is going on back home, whatever she's going through, he has to help her through it.

He wipes his eyes, stands, and stumbles through the early morning dark out to the computer.

* * *

It's been years since she's set foot on the grounds of this campus. Olivia's arms wrap tightly around her body. The sky is bleak and gray, the air is frigid as it bites into her face and hands and crawls deep beneath her skin, squeezing her lungs. California has been good to her; she's forgotten how unforgiving New York winters can be.

She's not sure how she found herself here in upper Manhattan. The past twenty-four hours have been mostly a blur, from packing her bags, to Murph's visit, and finally rushing to the airport, managing to get a ticket across the country and sitting at the terminal for what seemed like days, waiting.

And, of course, now to walking down the snow slicked sidewalks, hands buried deep into the pockets of her jacket. Her first full day in New York, this just seemed like the right place to go.

It's getting colder though, and her feet and lower back are beginning to ache. She takes refuge in the small coffee shop on the corner, one that her mother used to take her too during her sober moments when she was younger. She still remembers the warm, buttery croissants her mother bought from here on her tongue.

The place is filled. College students huddle around tables with laptops, typing away or speaking to each other. Olivia stands awkwardly for a moment, scanning the room unsuccessfully for an empty table before she suddenly hears her name.

"Olivia? Olivia Benson?"

The woman is short and plump with dark gray hair. She's dressed in a pair of charcoal slacks and a blue blouse, and the smile she has lights up her whole face.

"Joy," she says finally. "Hi."

"It's been a while. Here, come sit, let me buy you a cup of coffee."

"Oh, you don't have to-

"Nonsense, nonsense. Sit down, I'd love to catch up with you. Go in, have a seat there. What would you like?"

"Um, just tea, please. Thank you."

Joy returns with two steaming mugs in her hand. "There you are. Now, how have you been? What brings you back to Hudson?"

What a loaded question. Olivia takes a deep breath as she wraps her fingers around the mug. The steaming liquid warms her hands, but nothing can warm the coldness in her heart.

"Oh, I just…" Olivia pauses, staring down into the dark brown liquid, "wanted to come see what I left behind."

Joy nods, studying Olivia's face. "What you left behind in New York?"

The younger woman nods, but the brick in her throat prevents her from speaking. She takes a sip of her tea and breathes in deeply before finally finding her voice. "That. And… I needed to get away. Just to think."

"To think about your baby?"

Olivia's hand shoots to her stomach. _Is it that obvious already?_

Joy smiles warmly. "Don't look at me like that. I have five children with children of their own, I know a pregnant belly when I see one. Now, how many months? Three? Four?"

"Almost four," she murmurs.

"Judging by the look in your eyes, it wasn't planned."

"It wasn't."

"What about baby's daddy? Is he not supportive?"

"H-he doesn't know."

"My goodness. Does he... do you know who..."

"Yes," Olivia interrupts immediately. "Yes, I know exactly who he is. We've been seeing each other for a while, I just...he's on a deployment right now, he's in the military. I haven't seen him since I found out."

"I'm sorry, dear. After your mother… I just had to ask," Joy says. "This man, does he not want children? Is that why you haven't told him?"

"I don't know if he wants to. We've never talked about it."

"That's too bad. A child is a wonderful thing," Joy murmurs. She looks Olivia over for a long moment, then gives her a smile. "Do you have a picture? I'd like to see this soldier that stole little Olive's heart."

Olivia smiles and her heart warms at the nickname. She hasn't heard it in over five years; not since Joy made it to her mother's funeral.

She takes out her wallet, slides the picture out from behind her license and glances at it for a moment before handing it over. It's the wallet-sized copy of the photo sitting on Elliot's wall back in California.

Joy stares at it, and the smile on her face widens. "What a perfect pair the two of you make. What's his name?"

"Elliot," she whispers.

The old sets the photo down on the table. "You can't tell me a man like that wouldn't be thrilled to start a family with someone as beautiful and as kind as you."

Olivia swallows the lump in her throat, takes the photo, and slips it back into her wallet. "How can you tell?"

Joy leans in, and takes both of Olivia's hands in her thin, wrinkled ones. "Can't you see the love that man has for you in his eyes?"

Tears well up in Olivia's eyes. She'd like to blame pregnancy hormones on the outpouring of emotion, but she can't lie to herself. It's not the hormones.

"Besides, you look a hundred times better now than the last time I saw you. I know it's not just the California sun that's done that," Joy says. "This isn't my decision to make. But I'd just like you to keep this in mind: if there's one thing your mother wished for when you were a little girl, it was that she had someone to help her through it all."

* * *

The grave that she stops in front of is short, wide and made of a stone the same color as the overcast sky. Flakes of perfectly white snow are already piling on top. Olivia takes a deep breath, squats, and runs her fingers over the letters perfectly carved into the coarse surface.

_Serena Benson_

_February 3, 1943–December 10, 2000_

_Beloved mother and friend _

"Hi, Mom," she whispers. The lump in her throat chokes her and makes the words nearly impossible to draw out. "It's been a while, huh? I'm sorry I haven't been around, after everything that happened here… I had to get away from New York. I-I actually moved out to California."

It's hard to believe that she's been living out there for ten months. Nearly a year of working as a detective, of Raul as her partner and, most importantly, of the Marine next door. Of crackling fires in his backyard, meals in their kitchens and nights curled up in bed together, sleeping, making love and even just talking. She can still hear the soft rumble of his words in her ear.

"Don't worry, I told Joy before I left. And I saw her again today. She told me how good I looked since…" She swallows the lump in her throat. "Well, she just said I look good."

Olivia wipes off some of the snow that's piled up on the stone, and her fingers hurt from the cold. "I'm still a cop. I know, I know, I should get out, find something else to do, but I-I can't. My work makes me feel like what you went through means something." Olivia feels the moisture that's begun to pool in the corners of her eyes. "And.. what I went through, too. But I did what you asked, I made a life outside of my job. I found someone. Well, we… we found each other. He's a Brooklyn boy. A lifetime Marine, too. It wasn't love at first sight, not by a long shot. I met my match, though, he can be even more stubborn than me. He never gave up, not when I rejected him the first time, not when I nearly fell off a cliff to stop him from kissing me."

A smile twitches across her lips despite the ice cold tears that have started to break free. That'd definitely been one of her worst moments. She can only imagine what was going through his head then, but in the end, what probably would have made most men run for the hills only drew him closer to her.

"I wish you could have met him. He would have changed everything you ever thought." She wipes at the tear tracts that stream down her cheeks. "He definitely did for me. He's kind and compassionate and… h-he's just so _good. _I think that's the problem. He's too good for me and one day he's gonna realize that. Or… he won't come home. A-and I think that's the hardest thing to think about because I'd rather see him happily married to someone with five kids than in… a pine b-…" The words die in her throat. She wipes at the tears once again, and wraps her coat tighter around her body.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers finally. "You're gonna be a grandma. Elliot… he doesn't know yet, I haven't told him. He's still on deployment for another four months or so."

The snow comes down harder on her. She suddenly thinks about how happy she is to have escaped these harsh winters.

"I don't know what to do. My friends back in California told me I need to tell him, but…" Olivia swallows. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and chews, abandoning her attempts to wipe the tears away. "I know it could be so much worse. I-I could be like you, really alone. I've got Casey and Murphy and my partner…they're all trying to help. But they're not the ones that have to deal with this. They're not the ones that have a baby on the way with the father halfway around the world getting shot at every day and seeing friends die right before his eyes. I-I'm not alone now, but if something happens…"

Olivia swallows as the cold pierces her chest like a knife. "Never mind my baby," she whispers. "I don't think _I_ could survive that. So I ran away, just like I ran away from New York." She chuckles bitterly. "It seems like that's the only thing I can do right. Except, I can't even do that, because I'm right back here again. This time, I'll do it right."

Her chest fills with ice, but this time, it's not from the snow falling all around. Her arm wraps around her belly. Growing up, the one thing that she wanted more than nearly anything else was a family- her mother's love, and, no matter how much she tries to convince herself that just her mother was enough, a father. She wanted the man that every little girl looks up to the most. Someone to wipe her tears away, to pick her up off the ground when she fell, to laugh when she laughed. Elliot would be an amazing father. Boy, girl, doesn't matter, he'd be that figure her baby could look up to above all else. Just like he's picked her up off the ground, he'd do the same for their child. He'd kiss the boo-boos, chase away the monsters, and most of all, she knows that he'd love above all else.

Or he'd just be a picture on a mantle, a legend that her child would only know through stories, memories, photographs. There aren't enough words in the dictionary to describe how completely and utterly amazing he is.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Mom," she whispers.

* * *

The seedy motel Olivia's been staying at makes her wish she could have brought her service weapon with her. The door sticks, so she throws her shoulder into it, nearly toppling over into the process. Inside, it's musty, like there hasn't been a decent breeze through the place in years, the paint is peeling and the bedspread is faded and old. She takes off her jacket before entering the bathroom. The fixture above the sink emits a dim yellow light. In the mirror, she sees messy hair and bags under her eyes. Sighing, she splashes her face with cool water and makes her way back into the bedroom. She sits down on the bed, and stares at the television for a moment before dismissing it. Her eyes instead focus on her laptop, which has sat unused on the bedside table since she checked into the place.

Finally, Olivia grabs it, sets it on her lap and powers it up. After ten minutes of fiddling with the wireless internet, she's finally able to open her e-mail. Near the very top, she sees his name in bold.

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: Hey_

_Date: 27 Feb, 04:00 AST_

_Olivia,_

_Our last call didn't end like I wanted it to. I'm sorry I dumped that on you, I really didn't want to do that. Please forgive me. I'm not great with words, I don't know how to tell you everything I want to, but I'm going to try my best. _

_I know you're afraid. I am, too. But if there's one thing being with you has taught me, it's that there's nothing wrong with depending on someone. You can depend on me, Olivia. You could depend on me when I was still right next door, and you can keep on depending on me now when I' m over here. This is hard, I know, this is so damn hard. I'm a selfish bastard to ask you to keep waiting for me like this, because you deserve someone that can be there with you every day. But we're both miserable without each other, that much I know. _

_Whatever you're thinking right now, don't let it come between us. I'm sitting here at two o'clock in the morning trying to get these words out to you when I have to be up again in three hours because you're the most important thing in my life. And I know that scares you, because it scares me, too. But remember what I said before I left. Deployment or no, I'm not leaving you. I don't care if I have to fight and kick and scream, you're mine, and it's gonna stay that way. For as long as you want me, I'll keep coming back. Except, now I realize that's not true. I'll keep coming back even if you don't want me, because I'm not gonna let you walk away from this. _

_Do you remember what you told me after that? I do. I'll never forget it. _

_-Elliot_

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :) Next chapter, you'll get the reaction to that email.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	29. Accept

A/N: It's been a while. I know. I'm sorry. Here's a long one to make up for it.

* * *

_Do you remember what you told me after that? I do. I'll never forget it. _

_-Elliot_

Tears sprout in Olivia's eyes as she clenches them shut. Her hand reaches out instinctively, but instead of Brutus's soft coat, she feels only the cheap comforter.

_What am I doing here? _

She misses the furry companion she's come to love. She misses the quiet neighborhood, the little house, the green grass of her yard. She misses Casey and Murph and Raúl, who've come to love her and her them.

And most of all, she misses _him_. The man that loves her, that she loves, that has changed nearly every aspect of her life for the better, and that saved her in more ways than one.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting to gain by coming back here, but now things are clear. New York isn't her home anymore; home is where all of her amazing memories were made. Home is where she jumped from a plane for the first time, where she shot an AR-15, where she rode a sailboat. Home is where her baby was conceived, and most importantly, home is where the man she loves will return.

_If _he returns.

Olivia wipes the tears away, and begins to type.

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: OBenson4015_

_Subject: Hey_

_Date: 5 Mar, 21:00 PST_

_El,_

_I remember. I told you I'll be right here waiting for you. _

_Please call me when you get a chance. _

_-Liv_

Elliot closes the internet browser, and swallows the lump that's formed in his throat. What was he expecting when he sent that email? For her to tell him that everything is okay and she'd never even think about leaving him? He should know… this is just as hard for her as it is for him.

He reaches for the phone, but hesitates, wishing for one more moment of ignorant bliss. One more second with the thought that she's fine at home, working and taking care of Brutus and okay with their limited phone calls and emails.

He's a damn fool if he ever believed that.

A strange mix of fear and excitement swirls in the pit of his stomach as he dials the phone number he knows so well. He can't wait to hear her voice again, he's just terrified of what it will say.

One ring. Two. Three. Is she even going to answer at all? And then, instead of a fourth buzz, her soft voice hits his ear. "Hi."

"Hey," he says, knees growing weak. "A-are you okay?"

He can just hear the tears that pool in her eyes. "No, I'm not."

"Liv," he chokes out, fighting his own tears and the heaviness in his chest. He can't stand to hear her like this, like she'll shatter at any moment. How will he be able to comfort her when simply hearing her like this breaks his own heart?

"I need you to talk to me," she says. "That email… just talk to me."

The wheels in his head spin, but he's getting nowhere. He needs to show her how much he cares, but without sitting in front of her, looking into her eyes and pulling her close, he has no idea how to do that. Words always seem to escape him in situations like these.

"I love you," he says, words finally coming. "I know you're afraid, I'm afraid, too. But remember what we talked about? We're in this together, for better of worse."

She sniffles from the other end. He nearly dies where he stands. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Elliot."

"Olivia, what's the matter? Please, you've got to talk to me."

"I-I... I had to get out of Newport," she whispers. "I'm back in New York."

His heart skips a beat and the world is suddenly crumbling around him. She's gone. She left him, left the life they'd started to build behind, broken the promise she'd made as they sat together on his couch, holding each other close. How could she do that?

Elliot swallows, tries to keep his breathing even, but his heart is beating erratically and he can't seem to force air through his lungs. "What are you doing there?"

_"_I-I just needed some space to think," she mumbles.

"To think," he repeats. "What does that mean?"

There's a long pause. Elliot collapses back against the wall. His heart constricts, his chest feels like it's caving in. He's going to have a heart attack. That's how he's going to die over here, not from a bullet, not from an IED, he's going to drop dead because she _still_ isn't saying anything.

"Olivia."

"Elliot," she whispers.

"Listen, whatever's bothering you, it's okay. Just…" His voice cracks. He takes a deep breath, and says, "Just talk to me, please. I-I can't help if you don't talk to me."

"I-I…" He hears her breath deeply into the phone, and another long moment of silent suffocates him. "I-I'm pregnant."

He's frozen. Everything around him is still; there's no noise, no movement, nothing except for her words, echoing over and over and over like the firing of a machine gun. _I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant._

"Y-…y-yo… what?" Pregnant. His mind whirs as he works it out in his head. Pregnant means a baby, means Olivia's gonna be a mom, and also means... "I-I… I'm gonna be a dad?"

"You're gonna be a dad, El." Her voice comes out in a whisper, so soft and delicate and he wonders briefly why she's being so gentle talking with him.

"H-how far…?"

"Almost four months."

Four months… four months… that was right before he left. Elliot's thoughts are immediately drawn to one of the last nights they shared together, under their warm blanket in his backyard. Even now, he remembers it like it was yesterday. Yeah, he thinks. It makes sense now. It figures that night so filled with passion, so special, would produce something so beautiful. A baby. She's gonna have a baby, _his _baby.

Elliot wishes more than anything that he could reach out, take her in his arms and pull her to him, kiss her, rest his hand on the tiny bump that no doubt has started to form on her belly. There's a little life in there, a little life that he helped create.

He's gonna be a daddy.

Warmth rises in his chest. His smile is so wide that his cheeks hurt. This was the absolute last thing that he expected, but the thought of it is just so perfect. He can't wait to see her again. He can't wait to go to doctors appointments and pick names and look at sonograms... they're having a _baby._

"Elliot," Olivia says, and he realizes that he's been silent for several minutes. "It's okay, I-I know you're not ready. It's the worst possible time, I get it, I'll just..."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell is she talking about? Does she think he wouldn't want to stay...? "You'll just what?"

"Figure something out," she mumbles. "The point is, you're not obligated to-

"Stop." He can't listen to this anymore. "Stop, Liv, just- what the hell are you talking about? If you think you're going through this alone, you're crazy. Listen, I know this wasn't planned. Shit, it was the furthest thing from planned, and you're right. It _is_ the worst time. But-

His voice cracks. He takes a breath and swallows. "But there's absolutely no one I'd rather do this with than you. We can be a family, Liv, we can- five months, I'll be home, I'll get back to you before… I'll be there for you. You, our baby… our _baby_, Liv."

He hears her sniffle. "I came here because I thought I needed to get away. But I realized that there's nowhere else I'd rather be than with you. I-I want to be a family, but I-I just didn't know if…"

"If I wanted the same thing," he finishes, a knife piercing his heart at the thought. How could she ever think that?

"I-if you'd come back," Olivia whispers. "If you'd…"

"I'm coming back," he rasps. "You hear me, 'Livia? Please, just go home. Don't stay in New York all by yourself."

When she speaks next, he barely hears her, whether it's because of his thumping heart and the raging blood in his ears or her whisper, he's not sure. "Don't worry about me, El. Focus on what you're doing over there."

_I can't focus on what I'm doing here if I'm so damn worried about you._

Elliot wants to reach through the phone and shake her. What the hell is she thinking?

"If I do that, are you gonna go home?"

"I don't know," Olivia whispers.

_Don't be an asshole. Don't confirm her fears. _

He swallows once. Twice. Opens his mouth to say something, but can't think of anything that won't hurt more than help. He's already deep in a hole. _Deep in a hole that I did nothing to dig. _He drops his head, gripping the phone to his ear with white knuckles. He was so elated, so full of hope, and now everything is threatening to crumble around him.

"Olivia," he rasps. "I wanna be with you. I'm not the one running 'way from this, I'm not the one sayin' that you gotta go through this alone. We can do this together. I'll be there, for you. I _want _to."

He waits a minute. Two. Still, she says nothing. The only thing coming from the other end of the line is her breathing, and he swears she's on the verge of tears.

"Didn't you hear me?" he says. "Say somethin'."

"I heard you," Olivia says finally. "I-I just don't know if…"

"If what? If I'm telling the truth?"

"I don't know," she whispers. "Elliot, I-I just don't know, okay? I gotta go."

_Don't be an asshole. Don't confirm her fears. _

"Fine," he rasps. "I love you."

And the only thing he's met with is the dial tone.

Elliot slams the phone back down on the receiver. He runs both hands through his air, clenching his eyes shut as he tries to keep the fire in his stomach down. It burns up into his chest, and he swallows, chewing furiously on his bottom lip before finally, red forms behind his eyelids as the heel of his foot meets the plastic chair he'd been sitting on.

He's out the door before the loud _bang _as the chair hits the floor.

—-

Elliot's going to kill him if he finds out.

Murph sits on the couch, elbow resting on the arm, head resting on his hand. He's been trying unsuccessfully for a week to think of something he can do besides just sit and wait.

He's visited Olivia's place twice. Both times, the car was in the driveway, but all the lights were off and the house was empty. He knows she left, he just knows it- he just doesn't know where she went or if she'll be back. What can he possibly do if she doesn't come back? What will he tell Elliot if he returns from Iraq and she's still gone?

Hands squeeze his shoulders gently and the light smell of cinnamon wafts through his nose. "What's the matter over here, why are you sulking?"

Murph sighs as his gaze drifts up to the pale redhead that stands over him. "Olivia. I'm worried about her."

Casey purses her lips as she sits down next to him. "I know, me too."

"Feel so useless, y'know?" he mutters. "My buddy asked me to do one thing and I couldn't even do that. I let her walk right out of his life."

"You didn't let her do anything, Shay. Maybe this is what she really needed, to get away for a little while. I can't imagine how hard it must be for her, sticking around here and being constantly reminded that he's gone."

"Yeah, but she's not alone. She has the two of us." Isn't that exactly what he's been trying to tell her this whole time?

"I know. I just don't think she knows," Casey says.

"I hope she figures it out before it's too late. I can't stand sitting around and waiting like this."

Her long, thin fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulders as her lips descend to his jawline. "She'll come to her senses eventually. She knows what she's left behind here, you just have to give her some time."

Murph's arms encircle her and he pulls her onto his lap. "I hope you're right." For now, though, there's no use worrying about it. Right now, Olivia is going to do what's she's going to do and there's not much he or anyone else can do to stop her. "Now, Counselor, there's something you can do for me."

"What's that?"

Murph's lips crash against hers. Casey's hand immediately grips the hair on the back of his head as she returns the kiss, and slides the inside of her thigh along the outside of his. He's just about to slip his hand under her shirt to run along her bare skin when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Casey groans and slides off of him. "Who is it?"

He digs around the pocket of his jeans for a moment before finally pulling out his phone. The screen displays an unfamiliar number, so he flips it open immediately. "Hello?"

"Murph."

"Hey, buddy," Murph says. "How's it going?"

Elliot sighs. "Well, I was alright until about ten minutes ago."

"Olivia called you?" Murph guesses, frown deep on his face. He should have guessed he'd be getting a call like this.

"Yeah. How long has she been gone?"

"A week. Listen, man, I tried to stop her. I told her Casey and I would be there for her, but she didn't listen."

"She hasn't been doing much of that lately. I've been trying to tell her, I've been trying to-

His voice cracks, then trails off, and for a moment, suffocating silence overcomes the pair. Murph rubs his eyes, silently begging the knife slowly piercing his chest to ease up. This is far worse than getting his shit kicked in during a sparring match. At least then, he knows that he's helping somehow.

Finally, Elliot says, "What the hell am I doing wrong, Murph? Why does she keep… _fuck._"

"Nothin'. You're doing everything you can, she's just…" Murph pauses, "She's just scared, that's all."

"Scared," Elliot repeats. "Fuckin' _scared. _Isn't it supposed to be innocent before proven guilty?" His voice rises with each word, the hurt turning to venom. "I've done nothing to deserve this, been busting my balls trying to- I'm sick of this shit, man, I'm fucking _sick of it_."

Murph opens his mouth to speak, but Elliot's voice comes over the line again, the anger dissipating quicker than it had formed. "We're having a baby. We're gonna be parents and all's she can think about is running away because _she's scared_. I've never done fuckin' _anything_ to make her think I'd leave her. She thinks I'm gonna leave her! What kind of douchebag lets the mother of his baby hanging?"

"She doesn't think you're a douchebag, she's afraid something's gonna happen to you over there."

"I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do here, man," Elliot mumbles, defeat laced deep in each word. "I'm grasping at straws."

"Don't worry about her, Elliot," Murph says. "She might be confused now, but she'll come around. You take care of business and let me and Casey worry about her. I've got her phone number, I'll make sure she gets back home where she belongs."

Another moment of silence overcomes the pair before Elliot finally speaks again. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to call just to start bitching."

"Bitch now, just make sure you get your ass home, how's that? You're gonna have a baby to take care of soon."

"If Olivia doesn't decide to stay in New York," Elliot mutters.

"Don't worry about that, I'm telling you. Me and Casey'll take care of her."

"Alright," Elliot says finally. "I'm gonna… I've gotta go."

"Alright, buddy. Shoot straight."

"How's he doing?" Casey asks, hand running gently over Murph's shoulders.

He sighs and falls back against the couch cushions. "Not good at all. We've got to do something, Case."

Casey nods. "But what?"

"I don't know." And that's the worst part.

—-

_"If you think you're going through this alone, you're crazy."_

_"You don't hafta be alone in this."_

Guilt swirls in Olivia's stomach. She's sitting on the bed in the shit hole motel, legs drawn to her chest, tears in her eyes, the broken twinge in Elliot's voice impossible to forget.

_"I'll be there for you. You, our baby… our baby, Liv."_

He's never lied to her before. Everything he's told her, everything he's promised her, the truth in his words was always evident, and even if they weren't straight away, he's always been able to prove her doubts wrong at some point down the line.

Olivia takes a deep breath and reaches for her phone.

"Olivia?" The familiar voice on the other end nearly makes her sigh sigh relief.

"Hey, Murph."

"What's going on, how are you?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry, everything is fine."

"Everything's fine? Elliot called me," Murph says. "I've known him for twenty years, I've never heard him so upset. What is going on?"

A knife pierces her heart. "Murph… you've got to believe me, I-I never meant to hurt him. I-that's the last thing I ever wanted."

_"Please, just go home."_

_"Please."_

She'll never forgive herself for being the cause of that pain. What the hell is she doing? He's worried about whatever missions he's assigned, the guys around him, his own life and now she's making him worry about _her_, too?

"It looks like the only thing I've been good at lately is hurting people."

"Oh, come on, now," Murph says gently. "You know he's worried about you because he loves you. He would never want you to have to go through this all by yourself, that's why he asked me to look out for you."

The tears slip down her red, raw cheeks. She wants to say something, anything, but no words come. She's sorry. So sorry that she hurt Elliot, that she keeps making Murph play the middle man like this, that the only thing she could think to do when things got tough is run away.

"C'mon back. You have all the space you need to think here, and this is home. Wouldn't you feel better at home?"

"There's one more stop I have to make here," she whispers before she can stop herself. "I'll call you. Okay?"

"Alright," Murph says. "Anytime."

Olivia hangs up the phone, drops it onto the mattress next to her and takes a deep breath. She has one more stop to make, and this one is going to be the hardest.

—-

Olivia stands in front of the apartment building, hands shoved deep in her pockets, knit hat pulled down over her ears. It's not snowing today, but her breath still comes out in frosty puffs and her cheeks already feel like ice. People rush past her, shoulders bumping hers, but her eyes are locked onto one of the windows on the second floor.

_"Well, well. Look who's finally awake."_

She promised herself that she would never come here again. Then again, she's been breaking more promises than she's been keeping lately, so what's one more?

"Do you need to get inside?"

The voice makes her jump. She turns, where there's a young man standing in front of her, dressed in a charcoal suit with his keys in his hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Here, I'll open the door."

Without another word, the man slides the key into the lock and holds the door open for her. "There you go."

"Thanks," she says, slipping past him.

The moment she walks down the lobby with the cement floor and the high ceiling, it's like she never left. She sinks down onto the big wooden bench and stares at the stairway that disappears beyond a high arched opening. It's in the middle of a workday, so the lobby is deserted. Olivia watches a mother herd two small children into the elevator, and her hand instantly drifts on her belly. Which will this one be, a boy or a girl? Will they look more like Elliot, or her?

She hopes the baby will look like Elliot. That way, if he doesn't come back to her, or if she stays right here in New York, she'll always have a little reminder of him.

"Olivia?" A portly man dressed in a pair of ragged jeans and a gray t-shirt approaches her from the hallway that leads to the first floor apartments. A smile spreads across his plump cheeks, and when he speaks, his voice come out in a deep, gruff Brooklyn accent. "Hey, sweetie, how are ya?"

"Hey, Derrick. I thought I told you never to call me sweetie," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. He'd been her landlord for all of the years that she lived in this place, and she still remembers the disappointment evident in his eyes when she told him that she'd be moving. They weren't friends, not any more than a landlord and tenant would be, but as a cop, she guessed she was easy to rent to. Her money always came on time, she was quiet. No complaints ever came from her place, and in a bind, she guessed that it was always nice to have a cop in the building.

"Sorry, old habits die hard, y'know," Derrick says. "It's good to see you. So what's goin' on? I thought you moved out to Cali."

"I did. I just came back to…" she hesitates, glancing around the lobby for a moment before her eyes return to the man. What exactly _is _she doing here? "I'm just back for a visit."

Derrick nods, sitting down next to her. "I was hopin' you'd come back to your old place. It's been a nightmare trying to rent it out since ya left."

"A nightmare? What do you mean?"

"It's been a revolving door. I can't keep folks in there for more than a few months before they hear the urban legend about the cop that was assaulted in there."

"Is there anyone in there now?"

"No, it's been empty for a couple weeks now."

"Could I see it?"

Derrick stares at her with a questioning gaze. He looks her up and down, then asks, "What would you wanna do that for?"

Olivia shrugs. "I just want to take a look at it. Can you let me do that, Derrick? Please?"

Derrick digs in the pocket of his jeans for a moment. "You were always one of my favorites. Alright, here. Just return these when you're done."

"Thank you." Olivia takes the keys and starts up the stairs.

She'd been exhausted that night. The only thought in her head had been stripping off the shoes that were making her feet burn and the stiff blue uniform. She hadn't been thinking about watching her own back, she hadn't been thinking about a man lurking in her place, waiting for her, waiting to…

Olivia swallows hard as she stops in front of the apartment that has '2F' in brass letters nailed into the door. The keys jingle in her hands as she fiddles with them, feet frozen in place, arms unable to extend, to slide the key into the lock.

What the _hell_ is she doing here?

Her heart is now pounding in her throat. Finally, she slides the key into the lock and it makes that familiar grinding sound. When the door opens, the hinges creak, just like they did when she was still living here.

The first thing she notices is that the place has been fully renovated. The whole thing has wood floors, except for the kitchen that's separated from the living room by a big granite island. In the little galley, there are light tiles that she has to admit look good. All of the appliances have been replaced with stainless steel, the walls painted a crisp, bright white.

Olivia would move, walk around, see how much the place has changed, if her feet weren't rooted to the spot.

_This is the exact place he hit her over the head. _

This is the spot he rendered her helpless. This is the spot where she stopped being a cop and became a victim. _A victim. A victim. _No matter how many miles she travels, no matter who she meets and what she does and how much she tries to forget, she'll always be a victim. Nothing will change that, nothing. _"C'mon, I know you know your way around a cock." _

Olivia Benson will always be William Lewis's victim.

The keys fall from her hands and clatter loudly to the floor. Her head spins, her stomach does flips, she swears she's going to vomit right where she stands.

_"Yeah, that's it. You're gonna like it inside you even more."_

She manages to make it to the bathroom before she does. Her knees hit the cold, hard tile as her body heaves. Tears form in her eyes, her nose stings and her throat hurts as the contents of her stomach hit the bowl of the toilet. Finally, just when she thinks she can't take anymore, her stomach settles. Olivia flushes the toilet with a shaking hand, and falls backwards against the wall. Her body is weak, the tears in her eyes aren't going away and the ice in her chest just makes her want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

His hands are on her. God, they're like fire. She curls into a ball, breath trapped deep in the bottom of her lungs. The cigarettes are on her skin, burning. His teeth are sinking into her bottom lip, drawing blood. Tears stream down her face. She tries to catch her breath, but it feels like she just sprinted ten miles.

_"You're the strongest woman I've ever known." _

Olivia takes a deep breath, and wipes away her tears away as her eyes fall on the bedroom door. She _is_ stronger than she was the last time she was here. She can do this. With the memories of Elliot wrapped around her like a security blanket, she approaches the door, wraps her fingers around the knob and twists.

The room is completely empty, there's a new carpet and new paint on the walls. Finally, she takes a deep breath, takes one, two, three, four steps into the middle of the room.

_"No one can hear you, Officer Benson. We have plenty of time to play." _

She freezes. There's suddenly a brick in her throat and once again, she can't breathe. He's taunting her. Even from beyond the grave, even when there's absolutely no way he can ever come back and hurt her again, he's still taunting her.

_"You will never go through anything like that again. Ever."_

The first time Elliot said that, she was skeptical, to say the vest. But the moment after that, when he held himself above her, felt his heart beat steadily against her chest, she really did believe him. And now, the memory of his voice is soothing. It cuts through the fire on her skin and the patronizing tone that mocks her. His hands are on her, holding her, pulling her close, laying kisses along the scars on her stomach. That moment in his bed, the second his lips touched her skin, it just seemed like everything was better, everything was okay again. He made these moments, the moments in this apartment, seem like they were miles away and in a different lifetime.

He's the only one that's been able to take away all of her pain. Despite all of her doubts, he's protected her, made her more happy than she ever thought she could be. So why is she pushing him away?

—-

Most of the men are happy to have a day off. Elliot's not so thrilled. The hours of free time do nothing to help the sinking feeling in his chest that's been there since he hung up the phone with Olivia. He's outside, alone on the rifle range they've set up on the edge of camp, sitting with his rifle focused in on the makeshift target.

The early afternoon sun seeps into his skin, which he can feel beginning to burn. The heat is unforgiving; sweat saturates the back of his shirt and runs down his forehead and over his eyes, nearly blinding him. His head hurts and his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth.

Not to mention, his aim has been absolutely atrocious. He's hit the target six times, none in the bullseye.

Elliot squeezes off one more shot, and when it hits the lower corner of the target, he sighs in frustration, flips the safety on, sets the rifle across his lap and digs into the pocket of his pants for his pack of cigarettes.

He quit smoking two deployments ago, but as soon as he hung up with Olivia, he needed _something_ to calm himself down. So he walked up to Garrett, asked him for a pack of smokes and grabbed his rifle before heading out here.

But the stifling heat, blinding sun, coarse, hot sand and even the cigarette that now balances between his lips do nothing to help calm his nerves.

The hot rifle slips down onto his chest as he falls back against the hard ground.

_"You're doing everything you can, she's just… scared, that's all."_

Obviously everything isn't enough, because she's still in New York. Elliot takes the cigarette out of his mouth, drops his arm to the side and flicks the piece of ash off. He watches the small puff of smoke slip from his lips and dance up towards the sky, then finally disappear before closing his eyes. What the hell is he gonna do now?

A few minutes go by. He thinks he should probably go inside, not just because of the sweat that slicks every part of his body, but also because he remembers that he is still in a war zone and an attack can come at any time. Before he can decide one way or the other, a shadow looms over him. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Elliot's eyes crack open. Garrett stands above him, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised.

He replaces the cigarette between his lips and takes another pull, shaking his head. "How the hell do you and Juliana do it?" he rasps.

"What?"

"Olivia's back in New York." His heart pangs just from the thought. He thinks about returning home to an empty house, living a life without her. He can't do it. Not when he got a taste of what his life would be like with her, not when he knows how happy he could be. She's the one thing in his life that he's been missing all these years, the one thing that really makes him feel complete.

Garrett takes a deep breath and sits down next to him. He takes out his own pack of cigarettes, lights one up and takes a drag, then another one, exhaling slowly before answering. "It's tough for 'em. Really tough. The first time I deployed, Jules didn't answer my phone calls for three months."

"Why not?"

"She was afraid that once she heard my voice, she'd break down in tears." Garrett shakes his head. "So she thought not answering at all would be easier."

"At least she didn't run across the country," Elliot mumbles.

"But has she been answering your calls? Your emails?"

Elliot sits up, sets the butt of the rifle on the ground in front of him and slips the cigarette back between his lips. "Yes, she has."

"I've seen the way she looks at you. You've got nothing to worry about," Garrett says. "She's gonna be at home waiting for you when we get back."

Either way, there's nothing he can do from here. He sent his email, made his phone call. As much as it hurts to sit here and wait, that's exactly what he has to do. Finally, he nods. "We've still got four months. Maybe you're right."

Garrett slaps him on the back. "I am right. Now come on, let's get back inside with the A/C, I'm dying out here."

Garrett jumps to his feet, holds out his hand for Elliot, and they walk back into the building together.

—-

As soon as Olivia gets outside, she leans against the wall of the building and gulps down a few breaths of fresh air. She feels like she's been up in that apartment for years.

Her watch reads three in the afternoon. With one more heavy breath, she pulls herself from the wall and heads towards the subway station.

In the motel, she packs up her things, and scrolls through her speed dial.

"Hey, Liv," Murph greets after three rings.

"Hey. I made my stop," Olivia says, "and I was wondering… could you pick me up from the airport?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Click on that lil box below and let me know what you think :)

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	30. Support

A/N: I promised my Twitter followers that the next chapter would be up tonight, so here it is! Please enjoy.

* * *

The flight from New York back to California is obscenely long. Olivia managed to get one of the last remaining seats on a plane flying out to Anaheim, and to her dismay, it's a middle seat in a row with two women on either side of her. The whole way, they blabber on back and forth to each other, even when Olivia puts the seat back, closes her eyes and tries to get some sleep. She strongly considers ordering a few drinks to ease her restlessness, but the little bump on her belly stops her.

So, for the entire six and a half hours, Olivia sits with her arms crossed over her chest, listening to the two women talk about their husbands, what they plan on doing over their vacation and how they hope the weather in California is better than the weather in New York. Every time she's just about to drift off, a new wave of chatter interrupts her and her desire for a drink or two quickly morphs into a desire to punch one of these two women on either side of her.

The next thing she knows, the tires of the plane are touching the ground and she realizes that she was finally able to get some rest. Thank God, because the last moment she remembers is the moment she felt like she was crawling out of her skin.

As soon as the plane stops, half of the passengers jump to their feet and start to open the overhead bins. Olivia would remain seated if not for the two women that sit on either side of her, who are among those hastily getting out of their seats. So she stands between the two of them, an elbow digging into her stomach and the woman behind her so close that she can nearly feel the breath on the back of her neck.

Anticipation bubbles in her stomach as the line in front of her begins to move. After the woman in front of her lugs her oversized carry on from the bin, they're just about home free and Olivia is stepping onto the gangway seconds later.

Through the sliding doors and against the wide sidewalk, Murph waits in front of his Jeep. The instant she sees him and the wide grin spread across his face, her heart settles in her chest and everything seems better.

"Welcome home." His arms wrap around her and Olivia finds herself relaxing more than willingly into his embrace. She rests her head on his shoulder, letting a deep breath expel from her lungs as her arm settles around his middle. His heart beats steadily against her ear, lulling her into a state of almost sleepy comfort.

"Thanks for coming," she murmurs, reluctant to let him go. His arms are still tight around her, and whether he knows it or not, he's reassuring her without words.

"Couldn't leave my girl hanging, could I?" Murph says, giving her a grin and an elbow to the shoulder as they separate. "Get in, I'll grab your stuff."

In the car on the way home, Murph turns the radio on low. "Casey's waiting at her place. You still wanna talk, right?"

Olivia takes a deep breath, staring out the window as Murph passes a red Corvette to their right. There's a young couple inside- a man with dark hair and a woman with her wavy blonde locks flowing gracefully behind her. Just as they pass, the woman's mouth is open and head thrown back in laughter. They look happy, she thinks. She knows what they must feel like…

Murph whistles, bringing her back out of her reverie. "Still with me over there?"

"Sorry," she says. "Yeah."

"No worries," Murph says. "We'll be there soon."

—-

Casey lives in an apartment building just outside downtown Anaheim. There are two brown buildings in the complex, each five stories tall lined and with balconies. Outside, palm trees stand in beds of neatly manicured dark mulch. Murph guides Olivia through the large lobby to the elevator and they take it to the top floor.

"Hey, we're here!" Murph calls out as they enter the apartment. Casey sits at the granite island that separates the kitchen from the living room.

"Hi," Casey says, standing to meet them. "How are you doing?"

How's she doing? She's not even sure of the answer to that question. Her head is swirling with so many conflicting emotions that it's making her dizzy.

She hates being afraid, she hates that cold fog that settles over her mind and her heart and bleeds into her eyes. Everyone can see it, everyone can tell how afraid she is, not only because Elliot's gone, but now because there is a life growing inside of her, as well. How is she supposed to be a good mother when she barely knows what a good mother looks like?

God, she's going to be a mother. The concept still feels completely foreign. How did she go from that week just before Elliot's deployment to now, four months into a pregnancy?

_"By having a really good time before deployment." _Murph's voice filters into her head and nearly send a grin onto her face. Yeah, he was right. Maybe she should have expected this after having marathon sex in every room in the house, even if they _did_ use protection.

"Liv?"

Olivia tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before glancing up at him. "I'm, uh- I'm here."

"Well, we know that," he says. "I think what Casey wants to know is… how are you feeling?"

"I'm glad I'm here with you guys. I just wish that…" She turns towards Murph. "You talked to him… right?" Murph nods. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth for a moment before finally asking, "What… how was he?"

"He told me he wants to be here for you. As soon as he gets back, he wants to be a family, the two of you and the baby."

"What about… me?" Olivia whispers. "About…" She swallows, looking up at him from under heavy eyelashes. She doesn't want to know, but she needs this. Before she talks to him again, tells him that she's here to stay, she needs to know. "About _us_?"

Murph sighs, shuffling in her seat for a moment as he stares at the wall opposite them. "Liv…"

"Tell me. Please."

Murph stares her for a moment, his blue eyes inspecting her before he finally answers. "He couldn't understand why you would think that he'd leave you hanging alone, after everything he's done to try to prove otherwise."

Olivia swallows as the tears pool in her eyes. She hurt him. Of _course _she hurt him, should she expecting anything different? After everything he's done for her, she's being the selfish one, the one that only thinks about herself when all's he does is think of her. He's eight thousand miles away fighting for his life, and all's she can think about is getting away before he hurt her. Well, she did that, but in the process, she hurt one of the only men she's ever met that absolutely didn't deserve it.

"I know what he-I never wanted to hurt him. But you've got to understand, I… needed this. I needed to get away for a while, to…" Olivia has to pause as her voice climbs and her breaths come dangerously close to turning to sobs. She swallows before continuing. "To have some room to think. I just needed to think."

"You don't have to explain yourself to us," Casey says. "We're both just glad you're back. And I'm sure Elliot will be, too, when you talk to him. Right, Shay?"

"Of course," Murph says. "He'll be ecstatic. All's he wants is _you_, Liv. You know that?"

"Yeah. I'm here to stay this time." Her hand rests on her belly as her gaze flickers down. "_We're_ here to stay." She's done running away. Her life isn't just about her anymore, it's about her baby, her and Elliot's baby, who deserves a family- a father in Elliot, an uncle and an aunt and to grow up surrounded by people that love it as much as she knows the four of them will. She looks between Murph and Casey. "I'm hoping this little one will get to know their Uncle Murph and Aunt Casey."

A smile lights up Murph's face. "You know it. We'll be here every step of the way, I promise."

"You mean you'll put up with me even when I'm crazy and hormonal?" Olivia asks.

"Of _course_, Liv." He sets his hand down on Olivia's belly. "Here that, little nephew? Uncle Murph is gonna be here to take care of you and Momma 'till Daddy gets back."

"Nephew?" Olivia asks, swatting Murph's hand away as she raises an eyebrow good-naturedly. "Do you have ESP or something? Because last time I checked, I haven't been to a doctor, and even then I think it's too early to find out the gender."

"There's definitely a boy in there, I can feel it," Murph says. "Maybe he'll play football like his old man and me. Who knows, Liv, you could have a little linebacker in there."

Olivia rolls her eyes as warmth rises in her chest. She's excited. For the first time since that day in the hospital, the prospect of bringing a little baby into the world doesn't terrify her. Especially if half of that baby is Elliot's.

—-

It's been nearly three weeks since Elliot's been back to base camp. It's also been that long since he slept on something other than the solid ground, been out of the same two grungy uniforms and had a cold drink of water.

He washes up, changes, and smokes a cigarette before finally sitting down at the computer. It's been three weeks. She has to have sent him something… right?

It takes forever to get onto the network. For nearly ten minutes, Elliot stares at the blank screen, waiting…waiting…waiting… He's about to give up, about to go back outside and have another smoke when the log-in screen for his email finally appears.

His heart nearly stops when he sees her name in bold at the top of his screen.

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: OBenson4015_

_Subject: Homecoming _

_Date: 8 Mar, 22:00 PST_

_I'm expecting a picture like this of the two of us in a few months._

_See you then. _

_-Liv_

There's a .jpeg attached to the email. Elliot clicks on it, and a picture pops up on the screen. Tears immediately spring up in his eyes and he can't breath for a moment. All the way to the right, Casey sits in a pair of jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt, smile adorning her face. All the way to the left he sees his big-mouthed best friend, toothy smile spread wide across his face as well. And in the center, the woman he loves peers into the camera from under her heavy eyelashes, hair partially covering her left eye, a small, almost shy smile on her lips. Under her t-shirt, he can see her little baby bump.

Relief washes over him like cold water on a hot day. She's home. He can't be there with her, but Murph and Casey are there, they're going to make sure she's okay. They're going to take care of her for as long as he can't.

And most importantly, she'll be there when he gets back. After their last phone call, ice and fire had been dueling within him- cold fear that the last time he held her would be the last and burning indignation at her thought that he wouldn't be there for her, wouldn't support her and the growing life inside of her.

The picture he's sent her melts the ice and extinguishes the flames, and he's left with tears forming in his eyes and the greatest desire he's ever known to be the one with his arm wrapped around Olivia's shoulders. He'll have to wait for that, but right now, what displays on the screen is all the confirmation he needs. When he gets back, she'll be waiting for him.

Elliot's hand slides over to the mouse and he clicks on the 'reply' button.

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: RE: Homecoming_

_Date: 29, Mar, 14:06 AST_

_Looking forward to it. _

_I love you._

_-El_

_P.S. You look beautiful. _

_—-_

The air in the waiting room is stifling. Olivia sits against the wall, squirming in her seat as she tries to get comfortable, but he can't seem to do so. All around her are women in varying stages of pregnancy, most with men by their sides.

"You okay?" Olivia glances to her right. Murph's right there next to her, magazine resting across his jean-clad thighs.

He hadn't been lying when he said he'd be here for her. The moment she mentioned scheduling an appointment, he cleared his schedule, called his commanding officer and said, _'just give me the date'_. And here he is now.

Olivia takes a deep breath, and nods. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

Is she sure? No, not even close. She's nervous as hell, she's scared. She just wants her name to be called so she can get in there and get this done.

Murph's shoulder bumps hers. "Liv? You still with me?"

"Yeah," she says. "Sorry, I'm sure."

Murph's eyebrows furrow. "Alright."

"Ms. Benson?" A nurse in a pair of purple scrubs stands at the doorway with a clipboard in her hand. "The doctor is ready to see you now."

"Nice to meet you." The young woman says, shifting her clipboard from her right hand to her left to shake Olivia's. "I'm Kristine, I'll be your nurse." She turns to Murph. "And are you the father?"

"What?" A blush creeps across Murph's neck as he shakes Kristine's hand. "No, no. I'm just a friend. Murph."

"Oh!" Kristine laughs. "I'm sorry about that. Well, nice to meet you, Murph. Right this way."

Kristine checks her weight, blood pressure and takes blood. Shortly after, a tall woman with thick, dark hair pulled into a neat bun introduces herself as Doctor Contrino. The doctor gives her a physical (Murph excuses himself for that part), proceeds to ask Olivia what seems to be about a million questions, from her health history to when her last period was, and finally, she sets the clipboard down, seemingly satisfied with the answers that Olivia's given.

"Now, we scheduled an ultrasound, too, didn't we?" Contrino asks. "Are you ready to see your baby?"

Olivia's heart jumps and she nods. "Yes."

The gel is cold. She nearly jumps as it spreads over her skin and the probe runs over her skin. She watches the screen with bated breath, waiting, waiting, waiting for the image to pop up on the screen. Finally, it does. There's a head, a little tummy, a set of arms and legs. Olivia's eyes trail over the forehead, the little button nose and mouth before tears form in her eyes and threaten to stream down her face.

"That's… the baby," she whispers. "That's _my_ baby."

It's almost too much to take in. Those little head, that tummy, those arms and legs that are on the screen are inside of her. She and Elliot _made_ that… all of their love, those gentle kisses and touches and one of those moments where he dropped his head to hers and moaned her name, when he buried himself inside of her as deep as he could get and his body shook above hers… they produced what she's looking at right now, a baby growing inside of her that she'll soon get to touch and hold and talk to, that will be half her and half Elliot. Maybe it'll be a boy, adventurous and unwavering, just like him. She'll watch them play ball in the backyard, she'll sit beside both of them on the couch or watch from afar as Elliot tells him his war stories, the ones that he's told her, and she'll meet a request to play football with a resounding 'no' before Murph (and possibly Elliot) convinces her otherwise.

Or it'll be a girl, dedicated and confident, like her. Olivia will take her to the park, to swing on the swings and spin on the Merry-Go-Round, or to the beach to swim and build sandcastles and lay out in the sun. She'll watch Elliot lift her up into his arms and hold or close or carry her on his shoulders. She'll point to each medal on her father's uniform and he'll tell her how he got them.

Either way, Olivia knows for a fact, in this moment as she stares at the screen, that she will love this life more than anything and everything, no matter what. She's already in love now.

She glances at Murph, whose gaze is still transfixed on the screen. When he finally turns back towards her, there are glistening tears in his eyes. He reaches for her hand, squeezes, and whispers, "Little Baby Benson-Stabler."

New tears spring up in Olivia's eyes, but for an entirely different reason. There's only one person missing from this moment, and the man next to her just uttered his name. He's the only one she needs to make this moment perfect; all of those scenarios that were triggered in her mind are incomplete without him.

"Your baby looks healthy," Doctor Contrino says. "And we'll be able to tell the gender right now, if you'd like."

"No," Olivia says quickly. Not now. The thought of the doctor revealing that now just seems… wrong. "Thanks. I'd like to wait."

"Okay," Contrino says. Olivia feels Murph's eyes burning into her, but she remains focused on the doc. "I'll have your sonogram printed out."

"Actually, could I have two?"

The doctor gives a knowing smile and nods. "Of course. I'll be right back."

—-

Olivia and Murph leave the office with an appointment scheduled for the next month. Before Murph slips into the driver's seat, he opens the door for Olivia and closes it behind her. Just as they pull out of the parking lot of the office, he asks, "So, you wanna wait for Elliot, huh?"

"Yeah. It's half his baby, too," Olivia says, watching the window as they merge onto the freeway. She turns towards Murph. "We should find out together."

He nods. "I'm telling you, there's a little linebacker in there."

"Maybe," Olivia murmurs. There's an inexplicable feeling bubbling in her gut, a warmth she doesn't quite know how to describe that tells her that maybe Murph is on the right track when it comes to the growing life inside of her.

—-

"Hey, Elliot."

Garrett sits down on the ground next to him and proceeds to light his cigarette. Elliot exhales deeply. "What's up?"

"Nothing. How're you doing?"

They sit together in silence for a long moment. The sun is setting, filling the sky with a deep orange. It's quiet; all quiet except for the occasional _whump whump _of mortars being fired miles away.

"We're going out early tomorrow." Garrett's voice cuts through the moment of silence and crumples the sense of peace that's been building inside of him.

Elliot nods, then extinguishes the tip of what's left of his cigarette on the packed dirt beside him. They sit together for another minute before Elliot hears his voice again. "By the way, you've got mail. Left it on your bunk."

Elliot's heart jumps. "From Olivia?"

"I dunno, there wasn't a name, just a return address. Newport Beach."

He jumps to his feet and quickly makes his way back inside. Men are sitting on their bunks, on portable DVD players and video game systems and playing cards, low rumble of chatter filtering through the air.

And sitting on his pillow, there's an off-white envelope with his name and address written in Olivia's impossibly neat handwriting. He carefully opens it and grasps the folded piece of paper.

_Daddy-_

_Peekaboo! Can't wait to meet you. _

_-Baby Stabler_

A grainy black and white photo is taped to the bottom of the piece of letter. He can make out a head, and a little nose and mouth. His thumb runs lightly over the outline of the baby's head.

"Hey, Baby Stabler," he whispers as a tear slips down his face. "I can't wait to meet you, either."

He peels away the picture carefully, then takes the little case out of his breast pocket. The sonogram goes right next to the picture of him and Olivia.

—-

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: Letter_

_Date: 2 Apr 23:32 AST_

_Liv,_

_I got your letter. Baby Stabler looks beautiful. Next time, can I get a picture of Mommy, too?_

_I've been doing the math. It looks like I should be home about a month before you're due. So maybe I'll get to go to a few of those final doctor's appointments, huh? _

_Love you._

_-El_

He wants a picture of Mommy, huh? Olivia smirks and gives herself a chuckle as she walks over to the closet.

So many options, she thinks, letting her hand slip through the sleeves of his clothing. Finally, it settles on the navy blue coat of his dress uniform, and her smirk widens.

* * *

A/N: Olivia's got something up her sleeve.

Anyway. Please let me know your thoughts!

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	31. Calm

A/N: This chapter's super long. But I'm sure you'll all be happy to know that it's Elliot's last full chapter in Iraq. The end of his deployment is coming closer.

Enjoy, and don't forget to leave your thoughts in the box at the bottom of the page :)

* * *

As soon as Murph walks through the door of his apartment, he drops his cap onto the table by the door and toes out of his boots. Sighing in relief, he collapses on the couch, letting his muscles relax against the soft cushions. He's just about to close his eyes and take a nap when his cellphone vibrates in his pocket. Olivia's name pops up on the screen.

"What's up, Liv?" She sniffles and he shoots up immediately, heart beginning to pound in his chest. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I need you to come over."

Murph stumbles off of the couch and makes his way into the bedroom to change. "Sure, sure. I'll be there in a bit."

—-

Once Murph pulls into Olivia's driveway, he damn near runs up to the front door and bangs on it.

"Hey," Murph says as Olivia opens the door. "What's the matter, what's going on?"

He steps into the house and she closes the door behind him. As soon as she turns towards him, she asks, "Will you take me bra shopping?"

"Will I _what?_"

"I just have to go buy a few bras. Will you take me?"

"Can't you go with Casey?"

"I need you to," Olivia says. "Casey's in court all day."

"Liv, you know I love you, but I don't think…" Tears spring up in Olivia's eyes and his mouth stops moving immediately.

"I just need a couple. You don't even have to- just drive me there and back and… please, Murph? Please?"

Murph opens his mouth to refuse again, but his heart is breaking as water begins to cascade down her cheeks. He can't stand the tears; they're making him weak.

"Alright, alright," he sighs, pulling her into a hug. "I'll take you. Ready to go now?"

Olivia's tears disappear and she smiles. "Yup, just let me get my jacket."

About halfway to the mall, Olivia's phone begins to vibrate in her pocket. She groans inwardly, praying to God that it's not work. The last thing she wants to do right now his haul her butt into the precinct. "Hello?"

"Hey, you."

"El!" A wide smile graces her face as his voice hits her ears. "I just got your email. I didn't think you'd get a chance to call."

"I didn't think so either," he says, "but plans changed. How're you doing?"

"Good. How is it over there?"

"Fine," Elliot says. He pauses, takes a breath and she can almost see him, leaning back in a chair, eyes closed as he talks to her. She wants to reach out, to run her fingers over his cheeks, straddle his hips, kiss his lips and feel his large, calloused hands run over her back…

Shit, where did that warmth in her lower belly come from? She squirms in her seat as his voice comes over the line again in that low, relaxed rumble. "Everything's fine. Missed your voice."

"I miss you, too," she whispers.

He clears his throat. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing," she says. "I'm going to the mall with Murph. Casey can't come with me to buy new bras, so I had to take him."

"You're taking Murph with you where?"

"To find a new bra."

"Put Murphy on the phone."

"He wants to talk to you," Olivia says, holding out the phone for him. Murph groans inwardly. _Oh God. _

As soon as he takes it, he says, "What was I supposed to do, say no? She was crying, El."

"Keep your goddamn eyes in your head or closed," Elliot says, huffing.

Murph rolls his eyes. "I didn't plan on fastening it for her."

"I sure as hell hope not."

"You know me better than that," Murph says. "Want Liv back?"

"Yeah, please."

"Alright, buddy. Shoot straight."

Olivia takes the phone back. "El?"

"Hey," he says. "So, what else is going on? How's work?"

"It's alright. Conklin's putting me on desk duty pretty soon." She nearly rolls her eyes. Months of pushing papers isn't nearly what she pictured herself doing, but the sergeant insisted and as much as she hates to admit it, in the rational of her brain she knows it's the right thing, for both her and her baby.

"Good. That'll be good for the both of you."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I just can't wait to get you back here with me."

"Three more months or so," he says softly. "We'll be okay… we've made it this far already."

They have, she thinks. It hasn't been easy and she has a feeling that it's going to get harder before it gets easier, but in three months, she'll be in his arms once again.

"Still with me?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah." she says. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Elliot sighs. "But I do have to get going."

Her heart deflates and the warmth in her chest begins to fade. "Oh, okay. Do you know… when am I gonna talk to you again?"

"We're gonna be busy for the next week or so, but I'll try to call you some time the week after."

"Okay. Be safe."

"I will. Have fun with Murph. Well, not too much fun."

She laughs softly. "Bye."

"Bye."

She sets her phone back into her pocket just as Murph pulls into a parking spot right next to the door and pulls his key out of the ignition. "Ready?"

As soon as they reach the Victoria Secret storefront, Murph stops in his tracks and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Okay. So, um, I'll just wait out here…"

Olivia spins back towards him. "What?"

"I drove you here, like you asked. I don't need to… I'll just be waiting out here when you're done."

"You're coming in with me," Olivia says, taking his arm. "You have to tell me what you think looks good."

_Oh God._ Murph groans inwardly as he feels heat burning his cheeks. Olivia's not giving him much choice in the matter- no choice at all, actually- as she drags him into the store and straight back to the lingerie section by the elbow.

"Alright, alright, I'm here," he mumbles. "Now pick something out quick, I'm pretty sure I'm the only guy in this place."

Olivia rolls her eyes as she flips through a few lacy, brightly colored bras on the rack. "Oh, give me a break. You can go overseas and shoot at people, but you can't stand in a lingerie section?"

"There aren't women staring awkwardly at me overseas," Murph says under his breath as he rocks back on his heels.

Olivia rolls her eyes again, but says nothing as she flips through more of the bras. Murph shoves his hands in his pockets and averts his eyes, scanning the area around them. Woman after woman after woman file through the section, scanning the racks of lingerie as he shuffles around behind Olivia. His gaze falls on a tall, blonde woman with long hair and three hangers of bras in her hands, who meets his eyes almost immediately. His cheeks burn hotter as his eyes immediately fall to the dusty boots he wears.

"Have you found anything yet?" he asks, glancing at Olivia, who's seemingly growing more frustrated by the minute.

"Ugh. I hate all of these," she says, tossing a bunch of hangers back onto the rack. She glances him. "You're Elliot's friend, what does he like?"

_Jesus Christ, get me out of here. _Murph is shocked that his face hasn't caught fire from how hard he's blushing. "I dunno. He's not _my _boyfriend, Liv… we don't talk about underwear."

Olivia turns fully towards him. "Come on, men don't talk about sex, though? Like, you don't ogle babes in bikinis together?"

Murph shuffles his feet. "Well yeah, sometimes, but I never thought to ask him whether he likes thongs or bikinis."

"Well, what do you like to see Casey in?" Olivia prods. "Lace? Satin? Nothing?"

"Liv!" Murph's head whips around as he makes sure no one in the section has overheard her. He grabs her arm and pulls her further into a deserted corner. "Why are you trying to buy all of this now, anyway? You won't be able to wear it for months."

Tears form in Olivia's eyes. She sniffles and shouts, "Because Elliot asked me for a picture and I wanna look good!"

Realization dawns on him. "Ooooh," he says, closing his eyes for a moment as he gives a nod. "Listen, El's gonna love a picture, no matter what you're wearing. He's just gonna be glad to see you. Okay?"

Olivia sniffles and wipes at her eyes. "I know."

Murph wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Alright. C'mon."

He starts to guide her towards the door, but she stops in her tracks and elbows him in the side. "I appreciate the pep talk, but don't think you're getting out of helping me here, Murphy."

Murph sighs as she walks back towards the rack. Well, it was worth a shot.

"So… are you gonna tell me what you think he'll like?"

Murph scrubs both hands over his face. This is so damn awkward… picking out lingerie for the girl he thinks of as a sister is just about the last thing he wants to do right now, but tears and a raging pregnant Olivia are two things that he does absolutely _not_ want to deal with right now. So, as his cheeks and the back of his neck continue to burn, he browses the racks with her.

Finally, she picks out a few things and before he knows it, she's yanking him arm towards the fitting rooms.

"Whoa, whoa whoa," Murph says, slipping his arm out of her grasp. "That's where I draw the line. I'll help you pick them out, but I'm not gonna…"

"Come on, Murphy, it's just a bra. Stop being such a prude."

And he folds yet again. Olivia pulls him into the fitting room, then disappears beyond one of the doors. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes glued to the floor as he waits, hands behind his back, ignoring the looks passing women give him. Jesus, he wouldn't even do this for his own girlfriend, how did he get stuck doing it for someone else's?

"Murphy! C'mere!"

The door that Olivia disappeared behind a moment prior swings open. She's wearing a skimpy, black lace bra that he can nearly see through. "Would this make you want to do me?"

Warmth sprouts over his cheeks as he averts his eyes immediately. He feels like a little kid that just saw something he wasn't supposed to. "You're like my sister," he mumbles. "I can't answer that."

Olivia strides up to him and grabs his shoulders, shaking him. "Seamus Murphy, I'm almost six months pregnant and I feel like a bloated cow, just tell me if you'd want to fuck me if I came out wearing this!"

"Can you keep your voice down?" Murph grabs her arm and pulls back into the dressing room, head whipping around to make sure no one has overheard them.

"Can you answer my question?!" she demands. "Why won't you, is it because I look like a brick house walking through here? One donut away from Free Willy? Should've known, I don't blame you for not being turned on by the beached whale."

"Olivia, that's not it."

"Then why?"

"Your boobs are Elliot's."

Fire rises in her irises and Murph winces. He's scared... and knows that he should be. "Oh, really. Funny thing, they're attached _my_ body!"

He can't hold back a groan. His head is hammering in his skull. Jesus Christ, he'd rather be in Elliot's position, fighting off insurgents. Fucking hormones. "Liv-

"No, no, no. You're right, Murphy. I'm glad Elliot's the one with boobs that are lactating and sensitive as all hell!"

"Olivia, just calm down-

"DO NOT tell me to calm down! Jesus, it would be easier to get _Elliot_ to tell me whether he likes this or not and he's _eight thousand miles away!" _

That's it. Olivia's going to end up strangling him before they manage to find something and get the hell out of here.

"You look good, okay?" he mumbles. "Elliot'd like that one. That what you wanna hear?"

Olivia huffs, but says nothing, closing the door behind her. Murph glances up at the sky before mumbling, "I hope this makes you damn happy, Stabler."

—-

Thank God for days off. Elliot, along with half of his unit, lounge around the base, taking shelter from the early afternoon heat. Elliot is chewing on a piece of gum and cleaning his pistol, basking in the cool air of the fan that blows down on him, when Garrett drops an envelope onto the table between his arms. "Mail. Looks like it's from Olivia."

Warmth fills his chest as he rips open the envelope and holds it open. There's a photograph, blank side facing him, laying in the fold. A grin twinges across his lips as he pulls it out. Maybe it's a picture of Olivia, or maybe another sonogram. It's been a few weeks, maybe she had another appointment.

As soon as he flips it over, his mouth goes dry and he chokes on his gum. Hunching forward, he spits it out, eyes glued to the photograph that now rests between his thumb and forefinger. It's Olivia… hair blown back, lazy smile on her face. She's wearing the navy blue jacket of his dress uniform, unbuttoned and open, contrasting so beautifully against her olive skin. One of her hands rests on her bare belly, under her round, plump breasts, which are covered by a dark red lace bra that matches the trim of his jacket. Her fingers point down towards matching red lace panties, which dip dangerously low under her belly button. Long, bare legs stretch out, parted slightly on the white sheets she lays on.

His pants are uncomfortably tight. He shifts to try to get some relief, but he can't help but think about how much he needs to place one of his knees between hers, spread her legs further and shift her panties to the side just enough to-

"Mm," he groans, lolling his head backwards. His eyes are locked onto her soft, smooth skin, her baby bump that just makes his need to find a home between her legs even more unbearable.

"What is it, another ultrasound?" Garrett asks, leaning over to peak over his shoulder. Elliot immediately jerks away, jumping to his feet.

"No, it's nothin'," he rasps. With that, he's suddenly in dire need of some time alone.

—-

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: Picture_

_Date: 23 Apr, 16:00 AST_

_Are you trying to kill me, woman? _

Olivia chuckles as her eyes scan over the short email. She dips a cheddar cheese Pringle into her little dish of fudge sauce, pops it into her mouth, and sighs as the flavor hits her tongue. God, that's good. Wiping her fingers off on a napkin, she begins to type.

_To: ElliotStabler _

_From: OBenson4015_

_Subject: RE: Picture_

_Date: 24 Apr, 09:42 PST_

_I don't know what you're talking about. I was just fulfilling a request. _

_By the way, I have another appointment on the 15th. _

_-Liv _

—-

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: Re: RE: Picture_

_Date: 2 May, 22:00 AST_

_You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't give me that. _

_Really, I loved the picture. Very sexy. When I get home, can I have a live version? _

_We're leaving base again tomorrow, so I won't be able to answer for a while. Let me know how the appointment goes as soon as you're done, though. I want to know everything._

_\- El_

—-

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: OBenson4015_

_Subject: Re: RE: Picture_

_Date: 3 May, 22:00 AST_

_I don't think I'll be able to fit into your jacket by the time you get home, at the rate this belly is growing. _

_You probably already left by now, but please be safe. I love you._

_\- Liv_

—-

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: OBenson4015_

_Subject: Baby_

_Date: 15 May, 22:00 PST_

_Hey, El. _

_I hope you got back safe. Appointment went well, Baby Stabler looks perfect. Doctor Contrino says that they're about a foot long, like the size of an ear of corn. They haven't kicked yet, but that'll be coming soon, and she said that they can hear now, too, so I've started talking to them. I know, it's silly, they're not going to understand or remember what I've said, but it makes me feel closer to them. And to you. I can't wait for them to hear Daddy's voice, when you get home. _

_Murph came over yesterday. He helped me with some laundry and then took Brutus for a walk. We had dinner together. He told me that he and Casey are doing great, they want to take me out tomorrow. _

_I'm really tired. Gonna take a hot bath and then get some sleep. Love you._

_-Liv_

_—-_

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: RE: Baby_

_Date: 20 May, 23:41 AST_

_Liv- _

_Glad everything went alright with your appointment. I don't think talking to Baby is silly at all. Actually, I read that talking to baby now will help you form a greater bond after they're born. Not to mention, it's supposed to be soothing for them. You're a great mom already, Liv. _

_Hope you at fun with Murph and Casey. I'm glad you're spending time with them, not all by yourself at home. How's Brutus? We had an IED dog on patrol with us last week. His name's Rocky and it's his first deployment. We got to play around with him for a little bit, it's amazing what just playing with a dog can do for the guys. It made me think of that night I came back for leave, of sleeping with the two of you again. _

_Will you email me when Baby kicks? I'm sorry I can't be with you for that, but I want to know as soon as I can, after it happens. And make sure you tell them to leave a few kicks for Daddy when he gets home, huh? _

_I love you. Talk to you soon. _

_-El_

—-

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler_

_Subject: RE: Baby_

_Date: 21 May, 23:41 AST_

_You're already reading up, huh? That's great, El. Thank you. _

_Brutus is great. He's been sleeping at the end of the bed, and I think he knows that something's happening, because he always seems to be sniffing my belly or laying with his head on it when I sit on the couch. Do you think dogs can sense pregnancies? _

_The baby kicked today. At first I barely felt it, just thought they were moving around in there, but they kicked again and I knew. Murph was there. He called them a little linebacker again. I really think he wants a boy. I'm kind of starting to think it might be one, too. We'll see. _

_Love you. _

_-Liv_

Elliot leans back in his chair, and gives a sigh. Utter joy and soul-crushing anguish rise in his chest as the same time, and he feels like he's being yanked in two completely different directions at the same time. If he wasn't over here, sitting in this chair, he'd be next to her. He would have gotten to see the surprise and joy that would well up in Olivia's face when she felt that first kick. He would have gotten to rest his palm against her belly, search her warm brown orbs as he waited to feel another kick. He would have gotten to pull out the book he ordered on pregnancy, point out that passage that says the mother should take the time to talk to her baby while it's still in the womb.

He scrubs both hands over his face as he shifts in his seat. He's just about to answer her when a new email pops up on his screen.

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: SeamusMurphy _

_Subject: _

_Date: 26 May, 18:02 PST_

_SEND HELP. _

_-M_

What the fuck? His blood pressure flies through the roof and his heart jumps into his throat as he types a message.

_To: SeamusMurphy_

_From: ElliotStabler _

_Subject: RE:_

_Date: 26 May, 05:20 AST_

_What the hell is going on over there?_

_-Elliot_

It's almost 5:30… he's got to go soon. His unit is about to go out for the day, but he can't tear himself away from the computer screen, not after that email.

"Elliot! We're rolling out!" Garrett's voice echoes through the empty room. "C'mon, stop sending love poems to your girlfriend."

Head spinning with the possibilities, Elliot closes out the browser, grabs his rifle from its spot leaning against the table and follows Garrett out. The next time he looks at his messages, he'd better have an answer.

—-

When Elliot finally has access to a phone, the first thing he does is dial that number he knows so well. It rings and rings and rings, and his blood pressure steadily rises. Just as he thinks he's going to voicemail, he hears her sniffling.

"Liv?" he asks gently. "Hey, is that you?"

"Elliot," she whines.

"What's the matter, baby?" He hears a bang in the background. "What's going on over there?"

"_Your _friend Seamus." There's a sudden bite to her words. "He's an asshole!"

"Why, what happened?"

"Elliot!" Murph's voice comes from the background. "Help!"

There's another bang and clatter. "_Ow! _She's _throwing_ things at me!"

"He gave me a _salad_!"

"What?" Elliot scrubs his hand over his face. "Baby, I need you to stop throwing things at Murph. Can you do that for me?"

"Fine," she mutters. Elliot can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he imagines how cute she looks when she's frustrated, with those pouty lips, arms crossed over her chest.

_Focus. _"Thank you. Now, what's going on?"

"All I wanted was a can of Pringles and fudge sauce to dip them in, and Murphy brought me a salad with chicken! El, he brought me a _salad!"_

"Did you tell Murphy that you wanted fudge sauce and Pringles?"

"I _always _want fudge sauce and Pringles!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," Elliot says. "Can I talk to Murph?"

"_Fine_."

The phone shuffles for a second before Murph says, "Help. Me."

"Why don't you just buy her the damn Pringles?"

"The doctor said her protein was low and sodium intake was high. I just wanted to help her get it up without sky rocketing her blood pressure and she threw a banana holder at me!"

"A _what?"_

"Banana holder! The thing that you put bananas on."

The image of a very pregnant, raging Olivia picking up the closest thing and hurling it at Murph is too much to handle. Elliot laughs, and Murph snorts indignantly. "Shut up, Stabler, she's _your _girlfriend!"

"If I were you," Elliot says, swallowing back the laughter that threatens to bubble over, "I'd get her the Pringles."

"Oh, sure, I'll go tell the doctor you said that," Murph mutters.

"Alright, you for worrying about Olivia's health, Murph. I really do appreciate it."

"I'm glad someone does," Murph mutters.

"I'm sure Olivia does, too. Speaking of Liv, can you put her back on?"

"Elliot?"

"Hey. Doing okay?"

"All's I wanted were Pringles, Elliot," Olivia weeps. "I'm carrying around _your_ child and my back hurts and it feels like someone's sitting on my bladder all the time, I don't think it's too much to ask for a little can of cheddar cheese Pringles."

"It's not, Liv, it's not. Murph just wants to look out for you, okay? He wants to make sure that you and the baby stay healthy."

"Because I can't do that on my own?"

"I didn't say that," he says gently. "You know I don't think that, and neither does Murph. He cares about you. He wants to be a good friend."

Olivia sniffles as tears well up in her eyes. "You're right," she whispers. "Okay. I'm gonna go now. I love you."

"I love you, too," Elliot says. "I'll talk to you soon."

As soon as she hangs up, tears flow from her eyes and she crosses the room, collapsing against Murph's chest. Her arms wrap around his waist as she says, "I'm such a bitch."

Murph's arms wrap around her in return. "Hey, you're not. It's okay, Liv. It's okay."

"I love you so much, Murphy," she says, sniffling. God, she's a wreck; she just physically attacked her friend for not getting her the right snack. "I'm so sorry. Will you forgive me? Please?"

Murph runs his hand over her back in a gentle, soothing gesture. He presses a kiss to the top of her head before he says, "Of course. I love you, too, Liv, that's why I'm here."

She pulls away slowly. "Thank you. Now… will you go back out and get me my Pringles?"

"Only if you sit down and eat your salad, first." Olivia reaches for the banana holder, and Murph immediately raises his arms in defense. "Kidding, kidding. I'll be back in a few."

"That's what I thought you said."


	32. Storm, Part I

A/N: I'm so sorry. I know it's been like a month.

* * *

It's pouring outside. Rain patters on the roof of the small home, but inside, candles fill the living room with warmth and the sweet smell of vanilla. Olivia is curled comfortably in one of Elliot's sweatshirts, which just barely zips up over her growing belly, under a soft, warm blanket with a paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice spread across her lap. She can almost recite the prose word for word thanks to countless reads over the years, but however many times she reads it, it always seems to get better. Going into her final year of junior high school, Serena handed her a copy of the book and from that moment, it instantly become one of her favorites. So here she is again, the familiar words comforting her like an old friend as her eyes scan through the pages. Somehow, she's enraptured with each word just as much as she was the very first time.

This time, as she takes in each paragraph, she can't help but draw similarities between Elliot and herself and the two main characters of the novel. It captured an unlikely romance, one that seemed like it would not work from the start… almost like her first few months here in Newport Beach. She never imagined falling for the handsome Marine next door.

Then again, it doesn't seem so unlikely looking back on it. From the first moment she met him, she felt a pull, an attraction that couldn't be stopped. It figures that only the wounded warrior and the jaded cop would be able to heal each other- make each other whole again.

Now all's that's left is for him to come back to her and maybe she'll be able to get her very own happy ending.

A big, furry paw sinks into the cushion next to her legs, bringing a smile to Olivia's face. She glances over the top of her book. Brutus's snout rests on the cushion and his big brown eyes are focused intently on her. Olivia chuckles, "Alright, get up here."

Brutus pants happily, jumps up onto the couch and curls into a ball next to her feet. Olivia gives him a pet and returns to her book.

As she reads the last line and closes the book in satisfaction, an idea begins to form in her head. The more she stares down at the cover, the more she thinks of Elliot, until finally, she throws the blanket back and heads into the kitchen.

She returns from the post office about a half hour later and immediately opens her laptop. The fan whirs to life as her desktop fades up onto the screen. Her internet browser immediately opens to her email, where there's a series of junk mail, followed by Elliot's name in bold.

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler _

_Subject: Getting closer _

_Date: 2 Jun, 18:02 AST_

_Hey, Liv. _

_I got our final return date. July 20. We're gonna be leaving that morning and hopefully get back in the early afternoon on the 22. I've got a bunch of things scheduled between now and then, so I'll be pretty busy. Means that we won't be able to talk very much, but hopefully that will make the time go by faster. _

_How're you and Baby? Did Murph finally get you those Pringles? Try to go easy on him, he is doing his best. _

_I love you. Can't wait to see you again._

_-El _

_—-_

_To: ElliotStabler_

_From: OBenson4015 _

_Subject: RE Getting closer _

_Date: 4 Jun, 09:00 PST _

_El, _

_The 22? That's only a few weeks before I'm due. I'll be waiting for you._

_Murph has been an angel… even if I haven't been treating him like one. I don't know where I'd be without him. He did get me those Pringles after we hung up last time. He came over yesterday after work, we ordered takeout. Casey and I went shopping a few days ago, too, I had to buy even more maternity clothes. None of my pants fit me. _

_Anyway, I can't wait to see you. Stay safe over there. _

_Love you. _

_-Liv_

_—-_

Elliot leans back in the plastic chair and stares down at the brown package in his lap. The return address is one from Newport Beach, but even if it wasn't written on there he could immediately tell that it's from her, just from the perfectly neat handwriting written in pen. He rips open the brown paper carefully, revealing the back cover of what looks like a paperback book. He turns it over to read the title: _Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice. _

He chuckles, thumbing carefully through the pages. He's never been much of a reader, but if she sent this to him, it must be good. He'll give it a shot- when he has the time.

Just as he's nearly finished thumbing through the pages, a note flutters into his lap. He picks it up and his eyes scan over more of her handwriting written in blue ink.

_El- _

_For your free time. I think you'll enjoy it, it reminded me of us. _

_Maybe by the time you finish it, it'll be time to come home. _

_\- Liv_

The smile on his face shrinks slightly as his fingers slide into the breast pocket in the uniform. The silver case snaps open to the photo of him and her… and warmth immediately fills his chest. A month. Just about a month left and it'll be over, he'll be with her again. Her soft skin will be under his fingertips, her lavender-scented shampoo in his nose, her soft hair tickling skin skin.

He sighs. Who knew it would be such mundane things that he would be missing? Feeling, smelling… and most of all, hearing. How long has it been since he's heard her voice? Somehow it always seems to crawl into his dreams, but his imagination doesn't do her justice. He needs to hear her, _really_ hear her.

There's one more chance, he thinks, and leans forward to write her a message.

_—-_

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler _

_Subject:_

_ Date: 30 Jun, 18:02 AST_

_Hey, Liv. _

_I can give you a call tomorrow, around 11 in the morning your time. Will you be free then? _

_-El_

_P.S. I got your book. Thanks, I'll give it a shot. _

_—-_

_To: OBenson4015_

_From: ElliotStabler _

_Subject: RE: _

_Date: 30 Jun, 18:08 AST_

_Hey, _

_Yes, definitely! I'll be looking forward to it._

_Love you. _

_-Liv_

_—-_

"Hey, Liv," Raúl greets. He sets the manilla folder in his head down on his desk and takes a seat. "How was your weekend?"

"Alright," Olivia answers. "How was court?"

Raúl grimaces. "Ugh. I had to deal with that new defense attorney, what's his name? Hermann."

"Hey, I don't think he's that bad," Olivia says, setting her cellphone down on the edge of the desk to make sure she'll hear it ring.

"No, he's good," Raúl says. "That's the problem. He makes me nervous."

Olivia rolls her eyes good-naturedly and checks her watch.

10:50. Elliot will be calling in just a few minutes. Butterflies form in her stomach at the thought of hearing his voice again. But with her ten minutes, she has just enough time to run to the bathroom.

As soon as she gets up, a wave of dizziness washes over her. She tries to grab onto the desk to keep her balance, but in an instant, she's tumbling to the ground.

"Whoa, whoa." Her shoulder is pressed against Raúl's chest in an instant and she realizes he was the only thing that prevented her from slamming onto the tile floor. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she breathes. The world is still spinning around her and she suddenly feels lightheaded. "Yeah, I just got up too fast."

"You almost fainted," Raúl says. He swipes his keys off the side of the desk. "C'mon, I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No," she protests meekly. "I'm fine, I just need to sit down for a minute and-

She tries to pull herself out of Raúl's arms, but stumbles and nearly falls again. Raúl slips his arm back around her. "No way, Benson. Something's wrong, let's go."

Before she gets a chance to protest, he's yelling into the sergeant's office and guiding her out of the bullpen. Just as the doors swing shut behind them, the phone on the edge of her desk begins to buzz.

_—-_

_Ring. Ring. Ring. _

It's the fourth time Elliot's called in the past twenty minutes, and the fourth time he's left waiting on the line, listening to cold, electronic buzzing instead of her voice.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

He pulls at the collar of his t-shirt, which is damp with sweat despite the cool air blowing on him from the vent on the ceiling.

_"You've reached Olivia Benson. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."_

"Hey," he says, feet shuffling together uncomfortably. "Sorry I keep calling, I just… want to make sure you're alright. I gotta get going, but shoot me an email if you get a chance." A lump rises in his throat and his voice cracks as he mumbles, "Love you."

Elliot's back falls against the wall and his head drops limply. He thought she sounded excited over the email; she said she couldn't wait for his call. There's a thousand reasons why she wouldn't be answering- she could be busy on a case, she could be out of the squad room at the moment, she could be talking to her boss. Still, his head spins with all of the other possibilities, all the things that he's been shoving out of his mind.

_One time. She didn't answer the phone one time. It's not a big deal, stop making it out to be. _

_She doesn't want you anymore. She found someone else. She finally got sick of waiting for you to come back. _

Elliot grabs the phone again and his finger presses another familiar sequence of numbers. _Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Hey, it's Murphy. Leave a message."

"Hey, Murph. It's me. Just wondering what's going on over there. Shoot me an email." He hangs up the phone and collapses into the chair.

_She's hurt. She was attacked on the job. She lost the baby. The baby… the baby… _**_my baby. _**

There's a jackhammer in his head, cracking his skull in half. The lights in this damn room are too fucking bright… Elliot drops his head into his hands and closes his eyes, doing his best to breathe evenly. Is this what she's been feeling the entire time he's been gone- this uncontrollable, burning fear? If so, he has even more admiration for her.

"Everything okay?" It's Garrett's voice. Elliot lifts his head and stares at the higher ranking man in front of him.

"Yeah." His fingers close around the cardboard carton in his breast pocket as concern burns openly in the back of his eyes. He drops his gaze, convinced Garrett can see right into it. "I need a smoke."

Garrett follows him outside. It's dark, but the air that blows over them is hot. Elliot lights a smoke and takes a long drag, letting his back fall against the side of the building. He's tired… the months and months out here are finally starting to get to him. Three weeks may as well be an eternity from now.

By the time Garrett speaks, Elliot is halfway through his cigarette and already thinking about lighting up another one. "Tell Olivia when we're coming home?"

Elliot nods.

"She must be happy."

He blows out a long puff of smoke and nods. "Seemed it over email. I tried to call her… didn't answer."

"Sure she had a reason," Garrett says. "Call her back when you get a chance, I'm sure she'll pick up."

"I-I don't know why I'm thinking like this, I just have a feeling…" He takes a deep breath, gulping down the warm air like it's the first time he's actually able to breathe. "Never mind."

"I get it," Garrett says, patting his Elliot's shoulder. "I was the same way when Jules was pregnant. It's alright, Olivia's got people at home taking care of her. You've got nothing to worry about."

Elliot puts out the butt of his cigarette on his boot and nods. "She does." And then, softer, almost like he's trying to reassure himself, he repeats it. "She does."

—-

Almost immediately after Elliot and Garrett walk back inside, they need to get ready to head out. The flak jacket is heavy on Elliot's shoulders, and his pack even more so as they walk out to their vehicles. He's riding shotgun at the front of the line. He stretches his tense muscles, then checks his weapon and the magazines shoved into various pockets. There's a strange feeling, a pressure growing in his chest, and he's not sure what it is. Suddenly, he's feeling restless, but at the same time exhausted.

Maybe it's Olivia… no. She's got people taking care of her at home. Right now, he needs to take care of the guys here. _Focus_.

They drive for about thirty minutes. For thirty minutes, Elliot stares out the window, making idle conversation with Corporal Slater next to him and Sergeant Allen in the back. He drums his fingers on his knee, stares out the window at the dark landscape, craning his neck and squinting his eyes for telltale signs of IEDs. Allen starts blasting a CD from his little, banged up stereo, but Elliot immediately puts an end to that. They don't need half the damn country knowing they're coming. The young Marine grumbles, but sets the stereo on low. It's a compromise Elliot is willing to make.

Five full songs play, and Elliot ignores most of them. It's rap, Eminem, he thinks, at least that what Allen tells Slater. Along with the music, their conversation fades into the background of his mind. He stares out the window… stares… keeps staring.

"Yeah, man, his newest album…"

_"You gotta find that inner strength…" _

"No way, Curtain Call has nothing on this one."

_"…get that motivation to not give up." _

"Yeah, but we both agree that his first LP was the best."

_"… just fall on your face and collapse." _

The tiny glint near the edge of the road hits his eye a moment too late.

Words are just beginning to expel from his chest when the earth-shattering _BOOM _rips through his eardrums. The music, their voices and the motor of the vehicle all disappear into the deafening ringing in his ears. Fire rips through the metal cage around him, his skin, deep into his bones…

And everything goes black.

* * *

A/N: ... review please? :P

Love you guys.

-Stabson


	33. Storm, Part II

A/N: It's only been two weeks! Definitely better than a month. I think. Anyway, enjoy!

P.S. I'm updating this on my last full day of vacation. Shows my love for you guys.

* * *

"Elliot… Elliot… _Elliot!" _

The ringing in his ears is just starting to fade. He gasps for air, but he can't force it through his lungs. Despite the wet, copper taste in his mouth, his tongue feels like sandpaper.

_"Elliot!" _

Gunfire sounds around him. The air is thick with hot smoke and as he's finally able to take a breath, a painful cough travels up his throat. Elliot winces and his fist closes around the door handle. He yanks it with all the strength in his body, but it doesn't even budge. Fire rips from his shoulders all the way down to his toes as the realization hits him. _IED. _

Garrett's next to him, poking his head through the shattered window. His vision is little more than a blurry mess of shapes and colors and he knows that the cause is more than the tears that threaten to overflow his eyes.

"Gunny?" There are fingers in his neck as the frantic voice hits his ears. "Talk to me, buddy. Come on."

"Allen and Rodriguez." The words grind at his throat and pulse in his chest. He coughs again. "Where…?"

"Don't worry about 'em. They'll be fine," Garrett says. He yanks at the door handle once, then twice, and finally it opens. "C'mon, we gotta get you out of here."

Garrett tries to lift Elliot's arm, but it feels like there's a jackhammer pounding at his shoulder. He cries out, more tears of agony forming in his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," Garrett says, letting go of him. Turning over his shoulder, he shouts. "Jim! Help over here!"

"Gunny!" Elliot hears Jim's voice before seeing him. "Talk to me. What's hurting?"

"My shoulder," he rasps. "A-and my leg… _fuck._"

"We gotta get you out of this truck," Jim says. "Garrett, get on the other side."

As soon as Garrett is in the truck behind him, he slips both arms under Elliot's. His shoulder still burns, but it's not that excruciating pain from when Garrett grabbed his arm. He's hauled up out of the mangled truck and safely away from the waning gunfire. His vision is just clear enough to see the blood that pours from his knee.

"You're doing alright, buddy," Garrett says. "Just hang in there."

The smoke is gone, but his lungs still burn as he tries to breathe. His eyes drift shut through his cracked safety glasses.

Jim pulls up Elliot's bloodied sleeve and wipes the inside of his arm with an alcohol swab. Elliot feels the prick of an I.V. in the inside of his arm just as his hearing is beginning to fade, turning Jim's words into a jumbled mess. The frantic gunfire fades to nothing. He's becoming more and more exhausted… what he wouldn't give to close his eyes and rest…

_No! _The rational part of his brain, the part that's slipping further and further into darkness, screams at him. _Can't sleep. Liv… can't leave Liv. _

He promised he would go home to her. He promised he wouldn't leave her and his baby and dammit, he needs to keep that promise… but the world around him is fading fast…

_Don't sleep. Don't sleep. Don't sleep. _

His eyelids feel like led. Jim's face is blurring and suddenly he's moving. Another jolt of fire burns through him. He can't keep his eyes open anymore.

_Don't sleep… don't sleep… don't… _

_—-_

The couch is small, the cushions thin and Olivia can't seem to get comfortable no matter how much she tosses and turns. It's only late afternoon, and she refuses to get into bed this early in the day, but she's exhausted after the morning she endured.

Raúl managed to drag her all the way to the emergency room. She'd been fine; her blood sugar had just gone low, causing her dizziness. The doctor let her go with orders to eat small, frequent meals during the day to prevent another low. After they left, Raúl took her out for lunch and then drove her home.

So now she lays on her couch, drifting and out of sleep. Brutus lays next to her, napping along with her. Every time her eyes crack open, he lifts his head to look at her. He gives her an occasional lick, sets his head back down and sighs loudly, then goes back to snoozing, waiting for the next time she'll awaken. It's comforting to have him here, comforting to have some reassurance, even if it's from an animal. Her fingers run gently along his shining coat and his tail starts to wag. He lifts his head once more to look at her just before there's a sharp bang on the door.

One look of the digital clock on her cable box tells her that it's about time her partner should be getting out of work and she rolls her eyes. "Raúl! I told you I'm _fine._"

She pulls open the door, but instead of her partner, two men stand on her doorway wearing Marine Corps dress uniforms.

"Olivia Benson?"

"Yes." Her blood turns to ice. She glances back at the vehicle they came in, a black Jeep that sits at the end of her driveway, then looks between the two of them. They could only be here for one reason. She knows why… but her mind won't go there. It can't go there. "This is… about Elliot?"

The two men glance at each other and the shorter one nods. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this… Gunnery Sergeant Stabler was killed in action in Ramadi, Iraq at 1:47 A.M. local time. The vehicle he was traveling in was hit by a roadside bomb."

_Killed in action. Killed in action. Killed in action._

Her knees give out from under her.

—

It's impossible to move from the couch. She lays sideways, back pressed against the cushions, throw pillow tucked tightly in her arms as her eyes moisten with tears, but come just short of falling.

_Killed in action. Killed in action. Killed in action. _

His face is carved into her memory. His skin, dry and cracked from the sun. His jaw, chiseled and darkened with stubble. And his eyes… dear God, his eyes. Deep sapphire that pierce holes straight through her optic nerve and beyond all the walls she has built up over the years, from her mother, her childhood and even Lewis. He's the only one that sees _her, _completely open, with such a simple gaze. He's the only one that she can give herself to without being terrified.

And now he's gone. _Killed in action. Killed in action. Killed in action. _

_"It's gonna be okay." _

"You lied to me, you bastard," she whispers, salt pooling on her tongue from the tears that finally fall. _You made me love you. You made me _**_need_**_ you._

"I hate you."

She can still see his eyes, clear as day, as if he was kneeling in front of her as she lays on the couch. Sobs rise in her throat and she hates him even more because she can't stop them from slipping past her lips. "I hate you so much."

_"It's just a couple more months. I'll see you soon, okay?"_

Her grip tightens around the pillow in her arms. Her throat aches from crying. She wants to hate him for what he makes her feel. He made her fall in love with him, need him, doubt if she could ever live again without him. Just for this. To torture her, to break her heart, to go and leave her forever without so much as a goodbye.

But she can't. And that's what makes her want to hate him the most.

_—-_

_Olivia. _

His eyes snap open. He tries to sit up, but a wave of pain crashes through his body and he falls back against the thin pillow, wincing. The drug-induced haze in his mind is slowly lifting as he remembers the past few days. He'd been out of it for most of those hours. It was probably for the best, anyway. He'd been on helicopter and then a jet and then God only knows where, pain as much part of his consciousness as consciousness itself. He vaguely remembers asking someone in his slurred, semi-consciousness voice to turn the morphine up. That had to have been at least a day ago. Now, he's laying on a little bed surrounded by white curtains on three sides and a cement wall at his back. His grungy, bloody fatigues are gone, replaced instead with a crisp, clean hospital gown.

He's in Germany… the military hospital. Safe.

Elliot's eyes slide shut and he takes a deep breath. His ribs pang and he winces, but takes comfort in the knowledge that he's still around to feel the pain. He's not dead… not yet.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

"Is that Jane I hear?" he grumbles, eyes cracking open. The woman that stands at the end of his bed is a few years older than him with short, dirty blonde hair tucked behind her ears. She's wearing a set of scrubs and there's a clipboard in her hand. A crooked smile covers her face.

"That's me. Jesus, you're back here again? You're not very good at your job, are you?"

"Can't be too bad, I'm not in a pine box yet." His throat is dry and it almost hurts to talk, but his comment earns him a genuine smile from the nurse that now stands next to him. She fluffs his pillow, pours some water from the pitcher next to his bed into a paper cup and holds it out for him.

"Here, take a drink."

He tries to reach up with his right hand, but his shoulder is tight and sore and he can barely move it. A wince passes over his face. "Feel like I've been hit by a truck."

Jane lifts his head gently and holds the cup to his lips. He swallows the cool water gratefully before sinking back into his pillow. "You weren't far off. Next time, wear a damn seatbelt, you could have been ejected from that damn Humvee. You're lucky your shoulder hit the door. It's bruised, but not broken."

Elliot nods. That would explain the pain, at least. "Not bad. What else?"

"It looks like a piece of shrapnel came up through the floor," Jane says. "It got your knee… almost sliced clean through."

"'M I gonna be able to walk again?" he murmurs, almost afraid of the answer he'll be given. He wants to reach out and rip the blanket from his lower half, but his right arm is immobile and he doesn't think he'd have the strength to do it with his left. What if it's crippled? Or even worse, what if he'll never even be able to stand on it again? He feels sick just thinking about it.

Jane gives him a warm smile, but it only makes him more nervous. Is that a pity smile? One that she gives a patient before delivering earth-shattering news?

"After healing time? It'll be fine."

He sighs, his eyes close and relief washes through him. "Scared the shit out of me," he rumbles.

A moment of silence washes over the two of them. The exhaustion is hitting him all at once; the drugs that flow through his veins from his I.V. are taking their toll and he really just wants to go back to sleep. The questions that he's been dying to ask are fading into the back of his mind and suddenly they don't seem all that important anymore. He's alive; at this point, that's all that really matters.

"Fuckin' exhausted," he mutters. Opening his eyes has become impossible; they're far too heavy and the need for sleep is overwhelming.

"They've got you on some heavy-duty pain meds, I'm not surprised," Jane says. "Get some rest."

Her shoes clicking on the floor is the last thing he hears before drifting back to sleep.

—-

The pain is too much. It's been hours and hours, it's early morning now and Olivia's been drifting in and out of her dreams, unsure as to which is real and which is not, because the emotions are the same and both have a dark cloud circling over her.

_Killed in action. Killed in action. Killed in action. _

It had to have been a dream. That's the only way this could make sense… the only way that losing him would ever even being to make sense. He wouldn't leave her. Ever.

She needs to hear his voice. She needs him to reassure her, to tell her that everything will be okay and that he's not gone, that he won't leave her forever for a very, very long time.

Before she can process what she's doing. Her hand is reaching out for her laptop.

She hasn't received an email from him in just over five days, but five days like this is too, too long. So she opens a blank email and begins to type.

_El, _

_I know you said you were busy, but I have to send you this. Hopefully you'll get it…. if you get it, I'll know everything is alright. _

_Men in Marine Corps uniforms came to my door. They knew your name, they told me that you were hit by a roadside bomb. They told me that you died at 1:47 in the morning in the middle of that god forsaken desert. I don't remember what happened after they told me. I think I fell, because when I woke up I was on the couch and there was pain in my head and even worse pain in my chest. _

_I can't tell if it was real or a nightmare. It can't be real, though, because you told me that you would be home. You told me that you weren't going anywhere and that we would be a family, me you and the baby. You remember the baby, right, El? Your little son or daughter? You can't go and die before they ever get a chance to know you. You can't leave me all alone to raise him or her. I can't do it without you. _

_I'm sorry I missed your phone call. I really am, because if I'm wrong, if you broke your promise and if I never get to see you again, I missed the very last chance I had to hear your voice. I can't go the rest of my life without hearing you, Elliot. Or without seeing you, without… _

_I need you to call me and tell me that everything is okay. And that you'll be home in a couple of weeks, just like you told me you would be. _

_I need you. You can't be gone. _

_Please call me. Please email me. Just let me know somehow that I really did just have a crazy nightmare. _

_-Liv_

—-

The next time Elliot wakes, Jane is next to him once again, taking his readings off of the bleeping monitor next to his bed. "Don't you have other patients to take care of?" he asks, a smile sliding across his face. "I know I'm dashingly handsome, but control yourself. These poor other patients need you."

"You know, I can always get the docs to cut off the morphine. Sounds like they're giving you too much anyway," Jane says, giving him a playful scowl. "Then again, it wouldn't be the first time you… _disrupted_ me from making my rounds."

Elliot chuckles. "No, I guess not. I'm a changed man, though. In fact…" He goes to reach for the breast pocket of his uniform, but remembers he's not wearing it and immediately pales. His bloody uniform… the one that they cut and ripped open to get to his wounds, the one that they no doubt threw away… and with the uniform, the precious silver case is sure to be in the garbage somewhere as well.

His heart sinks into his stomach and a heavy sigh expels from his lips as he stares up at the ceiling. He almost can't believe it. _I lost them. _

"What's the matter?" Jane asks, the playful smile disappearing from her face. "You look like your dog just died."

"No," he answers. "I had a case. Silver, in the breast pocket of my uniform. But when I got hurt… I must have lost it."

A knowing smile comes across Jane's face as he glances at her. She sets her clipboard down onto the table next to the pitcher of water and says, "Hold on a second."

She's only gone for a moment, but when she returns, the silver case is in her hand, dented and singed but otherwise unblemished. "It came off the chopper with you and I figured it was important. Here."

_She had it. _He almost can't believe his luck. Sighing in relief, Elliot takes the case in both hands, squeezing it for a moment to make sure that it won't evaporate from his grip. Warmth replaces the cold fear in his chest and he smiles. "I thought it was really gone for a second. Thank you, Jane."

"Don't mention it. Now, what's so important in there?"

He opens the case and his smile grows wider as he thumbs through the three photos. He takes out the one of him and Olivia sitting on the beach and hands it to her. Jane inspects it for a moment. "She's beautiful. What's her name?"

"Olivia." The name feels like honey on his tongue.

Jane glances up at him. "Don't tell me you tied the knot while you were back home."

Elliot chuckles. "Not quite. If I popped the question before I left, she'd probably run for the hills. But…" He takes out the other photograph, the one that still makes his heart flutter every time he sees it, and grins as he hands it to Jane. "She's this one's mommy."

"No shit," Jane murmurs. "Stabler's gonna be a Daddy, huh? I never thought I'd see the day."

"Me neither," Elliot says, taking the picture back. He glances at it for another moment, smiling. "But there they are."

And now he knows. There's no doubt; he's going to make it home to them.

—-

Another two full days pass before Elliot is allowed up and about with a pair of crutches. His shoulder is healing nicely; it's still quite sore when he tries to lift it, but he has no trouble hobbling around with the a crutch under each arm, and the first place he goes to is the phones.

By the time he reaches one of the free booths, his knee is killing him and his only real thought is of collapsing back into bed and sleeping for an eternity. God, he hates hospitals, hates painkillers and most of all, hates being hurt.

That doesn't stop him from dialing the number he knows by heart. He has to tell her what happened, he knows. He's just not looking forward to it.

_It'll be fine. At least she'll know I'm okay. _

The phone rings once. Twice. Three times.

"Hello?" Her voice relaxes muscles he didn't even know were stressed and fills his chest with a warm that only she can bring.

"Hey."

—-

Tears pool in Olivia's eyes, sobs burn in her throat and she's collapsed onto the floor in the kitchen because her legs just can't seem to hold her up anymore. It's Elliot. This isn't a dream, this is reality, and this is Elliot. It's _Elliot. _

"Elliot," she whispers.

"It's me." His voice is soothing. He's speaking to her gently, like his words could undoubtedly break her. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Tell me you're okay." Olivia hates how weak she sounds, but it doesn't matter, not now. She needs to hear his voice, she needs to confirm the thought in her head before it's all viciously torn from her again. _Not again. That was a dream. A nightmare, a hallucination, some fucked up figment of my nightmares come to life. _

There's a long pause, and more tears rush down her face. She's deathly afraid, completely petrified that she's imagined his voice speaking to her, soothing her. Finally, he answers. "I'm okay. Are _you_ okay?"

"I am now." And she's finally able to breath. The past few days of misery, the ones where she didn't know whether he was alive or dead or whether she was waking or asleep, are a distant memory.

"Don't worry about me anymore, Liv," he says."I'm not in Iraq anymore."

"Then where are you?" There's a brief pause. Olivia grips the phone tighter as her heart begins to race. "Elliot? Where are you?"

"I'm uh," he clears his throat, pauses for another half a second that feels like an eternity, and says, "in Germany. At the military hospital."

_Hospital? _Her blood turns to ice and her knees threaten to give out once again. The peace and comfort that hearing his voice brought her are now disappearing. _It can't be bad. He's talking, he's coherent… that means he's okay. He's going to be okay._

The question burns on her lips but she's almost too afraid to ask it. She wants to know, needs to know, but can't bear the thought of him laying in a hospital bed, crippled, maimed and alone. _He said he's okay. He's okay. _Finally, the question spills past her lips as a whisper. "What happened to you?"

Elliot chews on his lip. He's been doing so for almost the entire phone call and he's surprised he hasn't tasted blood with the degree of ferocity he's been going at it. He can hear the fear in her voice every time she speaks and it's breaking him in half. This is even harder than he thought.

"We, uh- hit an IED. I got… a little banged up."

"A little banged up?" she repeats. "They sent you to Germany from Iraq for a little banged up?"

"Alright," he admits softly. "I got hurt pretty bad. A piece of shrapnel sliced through my knee, I got a bruised shoulder and a couple of broken ribs. But I'll be fine. I'll still be home soon, I promise."

"Oh my God," she whispers, and he can just hear the tears in her eyes. "El…"

"It's okay, Liv," he says. His grip tightens on the phone as he tries to think of a way to stop the flood of emotion that's about to hit him. "I'm okay. I really am. I'm just gonna be banged up for a little while, but after that you won't even know what happened. It doesn't even hurt now, really. They patched me up and now they're taking really good care of me."

"When will you be home?" she asks softly.

Elliot sucks in a breath. Truth be told, he's not sure when he'll be returning. The first reconnaissance company, his squad, is scheduled to leave Iraq in one short week, but who knows when they'll deem him healthy enough to travel back home? He hasn't even heard from anyone other than Jane since he woke up here.

"I don't know," he says honestly. "But the second I find out, you'll be the first person I call. Okay?"

"Okay."

Elliot nods, releasing a breath as he lets his heavy eyelids slide shut for a moment. "How are you? How's the baby?"

"We're both fine," she says. "I have an appointment in the week after next… I was hoping that… maybe you'd be here for it."

His heart pangs. He swallows, and nods despite the knowledge that she can't see him. "I'll be there if I can, Liv. I promise," he rasps. Taking a deep breath, he calms himself down and smiles. "Has he been kicking? Murph called him a linebacker in his last email to me."

"Murph has been calling _her_ that since he came to that first appointment with me," Olivia says. "Because, you know, she's a _girl_."

"I don't know about that. Murph said with that leg, he's definitely a boy."

"You mean a girl can't kick?"

"His words, not mine," Elliot chuckles. "But I think it's a boy."

"Good for Murph. But she's in my body, I think I'd know better than him."

"Alright, then," Elliot says, leaning against the wall. "Care to make a wager on it?"

"Elliot!" she admonishes, but he can clearly hear the smile on her face. "We're not _betting_ about the gender of our child!"

"Why not? You scared?" he teases.

There's a short pause before Olivia answers, "You're on, Stabler."

"Alright, let's see," Elliot says, thinking for a moment. "How about, loser owes the winner a full body massage."

"You're on. I'll make sure to wait until you're healed enough to give me my massage."

He grins. "I don't think so. After all those months carrying fifty pounds on my back? Getting that shoulder rub is gonna feel _great_."

"Yeah, only in your dreams."

His chuckle quickly turns into a yawn. "We'll see about that. But I should go… I'm beat. Laying in a hospital bed all day is exhausting."

"I wish I could be there with you." Her voice has suddenly turned serious again, making the smile disappear from his face. He wishes that, too, more than anything. What he wouldn't give to be in her arms right now… to crawl into bed beside her and feel her fingers run over his sore shoulder. To hear her voice in his ear, to place his hand on her stomach and feel their baby under his palm.

"I know, Liv. I do, too," he says. "I love you. I'll call you as soon as I hear anything."

"I love you, too," she answers.

"See you soon."

"See you soon."

He takes a deep breath and sets the phone down.

Soon, he thinks. Very, very soon, he'll be home.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave me your thoughts.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	34. Reunion

A/N: Hey, everyone. I know, it's been a while. As some of my Twitter followers now, I somehow ended up in the hospital for a couple nights with pneumonia. So I didn't have the best beginning to my week, lolol. But I'm back and I have a chapter. Elliot's finally home! Enjoy the reunion and I'll talk to you on the other side.

* * *

Elliot's back and both of his legs are stiff and sore. He steps onto the escalator with a wince and shifts the weight of the pack on his uninjured shoulder, cursing the crutch under each arm. One full, miserable week has passed since he woke up that first time in the hospital. And when he thinks miserable… Jesus, it was **_miserable_**_. _Not only was he mostly confined to his bed with nothing to do other than stare up at the ceiling and sleep, the only thing he could think about was the fact that at the end of that hospital stay, he'd get to go home.

And then there are the nightmares that have started to surface. He's had two of them, neither which he'd like to remember. The first one came after a short, stalky major entered his room, introduced himself as Major Valentino and explained to him exactly what had happened to the rest of his unit after he was injured.

_"Well, I've got good news and bad news for you," Major Valentino said, "Good news, you're going home on the first flight Thursday morning," _

_"What's the bad news?"_

_"Bad news… Master Gunnery Sergeant Duncan was killed just before you were evacuated from Ramadi." _

_He'd been frozen, the words echoing over and over and over in his mind. Somehow, he still couldn't grasp their meaning. Garrett was killed. Garret was killed. Garrett was killed. _

_"H-how'd it happen?"_

_"He was shot in the neck. There was no way he could have survived."_

Elliot shifts his weight from one crutch to the other and swallows hard. Garrett was the only other casualty that day. In fact, all of the remaining men in the unit made it out of that ambush with minimal injuries. Cuts and scrapes. How could one man be dead and another critically injured while the rest of a unit escapes virtually unscathed? He's seen it many times before- Hell, he's been one of the unscathed ones more often than not, but it still amazes him in the worst way.

Garrett's gone. While Elliot was being loaded into a helicopter, Garrett was laying on the hard, packed sand, blood pouring from a wound in the neck. Dying. The worst part is that he wasn't there… wasn't there to help, wasn't there to pull Garrett into cover, wasn't there to hold pressure on the wound and tell him to hold on, Juliana is waiting at home him.

He reaches the bottom of the escalator and steps off gingerly. Despite his care, a jolt of pain shoots up his knee; he needs to pop another dose of the pills in the bottle that sits in the left pocket of his trousers, but the need to reach the exit of the airport and the people waiting for him is far greater.

_"El!" The excitement in her voice made a smile twitch across his face. _

_"Hey, I have good news. My flight to Los Angeles is on Thursday." _

She'd been so excited. Well, until she sensed the lingering grief in his voice.

_"Are you okay? What's wrong?" _

_The news was weighing on his chest, crushing him. "Garret," he rasped softly. Clearing his throat, he continued, "He was killed." _

_The distinct sound of Olivia's gasp passed over the line and for a long moment, silence enveloped the pair. "I'm so sorry, El," she whispered finally. "Are you… how are you holding up?"_

_Angry. Upset. Useless. Exasperated. So many things that he couldn't express when he was supposed to be the strong one. For her. Tears prickled the corner of his eyes and the need to just let it all go bubbled in his chest, but he willed the feeling back down. Couldn't break down. Not then, not with her on the other end of the call. Finally, he murmured, "I just can't wait to be home." _

His eyes scan the crowd, searching eagerly for a familiar face in the sea of unknowns. His heart is hammering in his chest. They're so damn close. In no time at all, his eyes will catch hers again; he'll honestly be able to say that he's home because he's not home if she's not with him.

"Elliot!"

Even in the baggage claim, loud with people calling for their loved ones and greeting each other eagerly, he hears her voice as clear as day. It's even sweeter in person than on the phone; it's honey in his ears. It melts him into a pool of mush even though he hasn't even seen her yet. The instant he does, the breath leaves his chest. She stands near the exit and beams of light from the glass doors behind her hit at just the right angle, like she's a gift from the heavens sent down to him. Her face is full, stomach large- he's never seen her looking more stunningly beautiful. He needs to reach her.

Olivia waddles towards him with her big, pregnant belly and he hobbles towards her as quickly as his still-healing body will allow. And finally, after all of the waiting, all of the phone calls and emails and pictures sent back and forth, after him nearly losing her and her nearly losing him, they're together again. His bag and both of his crutches fall to the floor behind him with a clatter, but he doesn't even notice. Olivia's arms are wrapped tightly around his neck and his are around her waist and for the first time in a very, very long time, everything in the world is _right. _

She's warm against him. Her familiar curves melt into his body, her arms hold him tightly as her chest heaves against his. He can feel her tears moisten his bare neck. She smells good. Her hair is soft from the coconut-scented shampoo that she still uses. It smells like home. It smells like those wonderful mornings that they shared together under the hot spray, soapy hands running over each other's skin, like those evenings when he would climb into bed next to her or vice-versa, when his face would find the nape of her neck or the top of her head just to inhale this very scent. His hand tangles in her auburn locks, soft and silky, while his right holds her warm body close.

She's finally here, tucked against his chest. He wants to lean back, look her in the eyes and tell her so many things- how much he missed her, how he loves her, how he'll never leave her side like this again- but his throat burns with the tears that he can't let free. So instead, he inhales that coconut shampoo and just holds her.

Her body shifts slightly. His eyes pop open just as her arm tightens around his neck and their lips meet. Elliot can't help the half moan, half sigh that escapes, but she doesn't care because her lips are still against his.

Their kiss breaks. Olivia's forehead falls against his cheek. "Welcome home," she whispers tearfully. And finally, he is home. He's right where he belongs.

Her hands move up his back and then down his triceps, bringing goosebumps to the surface of his skin. He blinks away the tears that threaten to break from the corners of his eyes and holds her tighter. Once again, he can't speak. Instead, his fingers smooth down her shoulder and to her expanding stomach. And then there's a whole new reason for the tears that fill his eyes.

His fingers spread over the bump. Their baby is in there. The life that he helped create is just under his palm- growing and waiting to come out to meet the world.

He finally can't hold it back anymore. A couple of tears break free as his eyes meet hers and he whispers, "I love you."

"I love you," she answers, and presses her lips against his for one more moment.

Just as they're breaking apart, he hears another familiar voice. "Is it safe to come over, or do you two still need a minute?"

Blinking hard, Elliot looks up just as Murph and Casey, with his arm resting loosely over her shoulder, approach. "Murph."

"Hey, buddy." Murph lets go of Casey and gives him a hug, slapping the back of his shoulder. "How's it going?"

Elliot winces. "Still tender."

"Eh, you're alright." Murph says, grinning as he steps back. "Still standing, at least."

Casey wraps her arms around him next, giving his back a more gentle pat. "It's great to see you. Welcome home."

"Thanks, Case. It's good to see you, too," he answers.

As soon as she releases him, Olivia steps under his arm. He manages to place too much pressure on his injured leg, and winces, leg nearly buckling beneath him. Murph sees this, and squats, picking up the two crutches that lay across the floor. "Here. C'mon, let's get you home."

Elliot takes the crutches gratefully. The pain subsides only slightly, reminding him about the bottle that still rests in his pocket. Once they get home, he thinks. He'll take a few then.

"You okay?" Olivia's hand traces down his spine and then back up. Concern pools in her eyes. He gives her a small smile and, just because he can, leans forward to give her a soft peck on the lips. His forehead falls against hers for just a moment.

"Yeah. I am now."

—-

The moment they arrive home, Olivia heads straight for the bathroom. Four small, clawed feet skitter across the floor and Brutus's excited bark hits Elliot's ears. He knows exactly what's coming an instant before it comes. Brutus's big paws land straight on his chest and his tongue hits his cheek.

"Hey, boy," he greets enthusiastically, scrubbing his hand up and down the Shepard's back. Brutus barks again then goes back to licking his face. "Yeah, I know, I missed you, too."

He gives the dog's forehead a quick kiss and pets him for a moment, just long enough for his knee to start to pulse. "Alright, down."

Elliot falls onto the couch with a sigh, dropping his head back against the soft cushions. Brutus curls up at his feet, giving Elliot's pant leg one final lick. His eyelids are heavy and his body is pleading with him for rest even though the most extensive exercise he's had today is walking (more like hobbling) from the terminal to the parking lot of the airport. Jesus, he could fall asleep right here if he wanted to.

Murph sits next to him and Casey takes the chair across the room. Elliot looks between them. "So, how is she? Really."

"Don't worry about her, Elliot," Casey says, giving his knee a gentle pat. "Murph has been coming over a few times a week, I come when I can get away from work. She's fine, everything with the doctors has been going great."

"Yeah, but you're not the one dealing with all of her wacky mood swings," Murph interjects. "Honestly, I love her like a sister, but you have no idea how glad I am to have you been. She's been… well, mood swings. That's all I'm gonna say, you'll find out the rest for yourself."

"She's eight months pregnant, Murph, what were you expecting?" Casey says. She waves him off, meeting Elliot's eyes. "Don't worry. She's been fine, you'll both be fine. Don't listen to him."

"No, you don't have to listen to me. Like I said, you'll find out yourself."

Elliot opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of the bathroom door creaking open silences him. Olivia appears from down the hall and immediately makes a beeline for the empty space on the couch next to him. Murph stands, stretches and glances at Casey, who's also standing from her chair. "Well, I think we're gonna get going. Elliot… welcome home."

"Thanks," Elliot says. "For everything."

"No problem. We'll have to get together for dinner this week," Casey says.

As the door closes behind the two of them, Olivia curls up closer to Elliot on the couch and presses a kiss against the side of his neck.

"Hey," he murmurs, turning his body towards her. His arm slips around her shoulders as their lips meet.

Last time they were together, it was frantic, almost desperate, but it's… _different_ now. He's tired, physically and emotionally, and he knows that she is as well. They kiss, gently, exploring and rediscovering each other, comforting more than anything else. He finds himself smoothing his palms down her body, then back up along her skin as the fabric of her shirt runs along the backs of his hands. She pulls him closer, sighing into his lips just a moment before they break apart. He rests his forehead against hers. His gaze rises from the tip of her chin, up past her moist, supple lips to her button nose and stops on her eyes, deep and dark as they stare right back at him.

"You're really home," she whispers, palming his cheek. "This isn't a dream?"

"I don't think so," he answers. "If it is, I don't want to wake up."

She closes the distance between them once more, pressing another kiss to his lips. He lays her back against the cushions of the couch as their lips remain fuse together, but once he has her where he wants her, his mouth runs along her cheek and then down to her neck. The scent of coconut is hitting him once again and warmth rises in his chest. He inhales deeply, letting his eyes drift closed for just a moment as her essence envelopes him. Her chest rises and falls, he can hear her heartbeat, quickened slightly, no doubt from his ministrations. Under his fingertips, he can feel the goosebumps on her skin. Her hand spreads over the back of his head as he finally goes back in motion, sucking a piece of the skin on her neck between his teeth.

His lips trail down her collarbone and he slides the bottom of her shirt upwards. He can feel her eyes on him as he leans back on his heels, staring at her bare stomach.

"Hey, in there. I know you haven't heard my voice before, but… I'm your daddy." A smile forms on his face. _Daddy. _He never thought that word would sound so good. "I had to be away from you and Mommy for a while. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere." He leans down and presses a kiss to the skin just above Olivia's belly button. With his mouth just inches from her, he whispers, "I can't wait to meet you."

—-

Olivia's heart is fluttering and she can feel tears forming in her eyes. _I'm your daddy. _She can't imagine a better father for her baby- a better man to start a family with. He looks up at her and there's such love in his eyes…

"You're gonna be a great dad," she whispers, setting her palm down on his cheek.

"I hope so."

He shifts from his position leaning over her to rest against the arm of the couch, pulling her along with him. She ends up resting against the crook of his shoulder with her legs wedged between the back cushions and him, her belly pressed up against his abdomen. Her eyes slide shut as she lays, just enjoying being in his presence once again. He's warm against her, his body lax. His chest rises and falls evenly and one hand runs gently through her hair and the other rests lightly on the sliver of skin that peaks out from beneath her shirt.

She can feel the fatigue set deep in him. Maybe it's the result of his long deployment, maybe his injury, or maybe a little bit of both, but each move he makes she can see it. That doesn't stop him from turning her head and pressing his lips to hers, or from slipping his hand under her shirt and running his fingertips along her spine.

"El," she moans softly against his lips. He squeezes her tighter to him in response, but says nothing. Instead, his teeth catch her bottom lip gently. Heat rises in her belly. His body is hot and hard against hers- she wants to slip her leg over his lap and feel him against her. It's been too long… she wants him. She needs him.

Her knee presses against his. She immediately feels him jump and groan, but not from pleasure. She leans back to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"My knee." He drops his head back against the couch cushions and reaches for his knee. Olivia slides off of him, guilt washing over her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, studying the pain etched across his face.

"It's okay," he says, fumbling in the pocket of his trousers with the hand that isn't clutching his leg. He takes out a bottle of pills, pops the cap open and swallows two of them dry. Olivia watches the muscles in his face, tense with pain, eyes clenched closed. After a long moment, he relaxes slightly and his eyes open. He gives her a small smile. "I'm okay."

She nods. Her hand squeezes his as she stands. "C'mon."

Elliot reaches for one of his crutches and uses it to help him stand. "Where're we going?"

Her lips meet his and both of her hands down his stubbled cheeks. "I'm taking you to bed," she whispers.

He follows her down the hall, grin on his face. The bedroom door swings shut behind the two of them.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm still pretty much locked in my house trying to shake off this pneumonia, so make me feel better with a review.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	35. Close

A/N: I don't know why this chapter came so easily. Maybe because it's fluff, fluff and more fluff :P

By the way, in two days it will have been a whole year since I started this thing. Amazing, huh? It definitely doesn't feel like I've been updating it that long. Like they say, time flies when you're having fun!

Update: My pneumonia is pretty much gone. Woohoo! The only bad thing is that I have to start acting like an adult again. Oh, well. Sick vacation couldn't last forever. Now I have to go study for a test. Please enjoy!

* * *

Olivia closes the bedroom door, turns to Elliot and immediately decides that they're both wearing far too much clothing. She wants- no, she _needs_ to feel his skin under her fingertips, to feel his body tangled with hers, to feel him rocking against her, filling her. It's been too, too long.

Elliot sits down on the bed with a sigh, rubs his knee for a moment and sets his crutches against the wall. Olivia gives him only a moment to settle before she's next to him on the mattress, turning his face towards hers gently with her palm. The distance between them is closed quickly and his lips are on hers, dry and chapped but still so warm and familiar. She feels his fingers splay out on her hip under her shirt. Goosebumps sprout up on her skin and she shivers, drawing him closer. Her knees knock against his and his warmth overtakes her. She slips her hands up his chest to the zipper of his jacket, slowly sliding it down. It slips easily off of his shoulders.

The forest green t-shirt underneath clings to his muscles as it stretches over his broad chest and shoulders. Her lips fall from his so she can reach for the bottom of the shirt and pull it over his head. And finally, her fingers are running over his bare skin. Everywhere her hands go, her eyes follow, from the hard plains of his chest down to his flat stomach and then back up to his shoulders. Healing bruises, scrapes and burns litter his skin and before she knows it, her vision is blurred with tears.

"Baby?" he murmurs, running his hand over her back. "What's the matter?"

Her thumb slides gently over one of the especially nasty looking burns on his shoulder. "It's just hard," she says, pausing to take a shaking breath, "to see you hurt like this."

"Hey," he says gently, raising his hand to run through her hair. "I'm here. I came home to you, just like I promised."

Olivia wipes at her eyes and nods. "You did."

"Come here, then," he whispers tenderly, pulling her into his lap. Her knees end up on either side of his thighs and her belly presses up against him. Before she can press their lips back together, he reaches for the bottom of her t-shirt and pulls it up and over her head. His eyes linger on her form. She resists the urge to cover herself, her scars and her widely expanding belly, squeezing his shoulders instead.

"You're so… beautiful," he murmurs.

"El," she says. "I'm big and fat."

"You're not fat, you're pregnant." His nose touches hers and his deep eyes bore into hers. She can feel the warmth of his hand on her bare stomach. "And you are beautiful, Olivia."

"You won't think so when I'm bothering you with a crazy craving at two o'clock in the morning," she murmurs, smiling through the tears that pool in her eyes. "Or throwing things at you like I threw things at Murph."

"To meet our little one? I'll take that chance," he says. His lips cover hers and his hands slip around her back. He fiddles with her bra strap for a moment, then slides the piece of fabric down her arms and off. It drops to the carpet with a whisper, forgotten. Her hands grip his shoulders as his move to envelop her breasts. Despite the time and distance between them, his hands remember every inch of her body; he knows exactly the parts that tickle her, the ones that make her moan. His mouth lowers from her lips and to her jaw, then down her collarbone, suckling and scraping along her skin hard enough to make her moan, but just soft enough not to leave a mark. It's been two minutes, maybe even less, but her body is already pleading for relief. He's hard against her thigh; she needs the remaining clothes between them to disappear. She never knew she could need something so damn much.

Olivia breaks away from him, pushing on his chest gently to separate his mouth from her skin, and stands, reaching for his belt buckle. He lifts his hips as she shoves his pants down by the seams and kicks them the rest of the way off. His hands are pulling at her pants, and as soon as he gets them off, he pulls her onto the mattress with him. She lands on her side, and his lips instantly covers hers again. His hands are everywhere- running down her sides, up and over her breasts and squeezing her ass playfully. Both relief and need flood through her; his hands are finally on her again, finally giving her reprieve from the need that has set deep under her skin, but she's greedy. She needs more. More of his hands, more of his warmth, more of his skin on hers. She bucks into him. "El…"

"Mmm," he rumbles in response, rolling her onto her back and slipping between her legs. "I know. Me too."

He doesn't even need to hear her words to know what she's going to say. It's comforting, it's infuriating, it's everything she's ever needed and wanted. Part of her- the part that has been missing since he left her all those months ago- has finally been returned to her. It might sound wickedly cliche and she'd never say it out loud, but with him kissing and touching her, she finally feels whole again.

Suddenly, she feels him wince. His forehead drops onto her chest and he sighs with frustration.

"Sorry," he says, rolling off of her. "That isn't gonna work. My damn knee…"

"It's okay," she murmurs. Her palm presses against his shoulder and she pushes him onto his back. He scoots up the bed and sits against the headboard. Her leg slides over his lap and they both let out simultaneous moans as their bare bodies scrape together.

He brushes her hair behind her ear and leans in to devour her mouth once again. She needs him to be inside her. She needs to feel him moving within her, to feel his thighs against her, his muscles trembling as they always do when he's about to come. Her whole body is nearly vibrating with anticipation; she's never been this completely turned on and it's growing to an unbearable level.

She lifts up, finds his waiting erection, quickly starts to sink down onto him.

"Easy," he murmurs, dropping his forehead against hers. Both his hands run down her sides and stop just above her hips, gripping her waist and guiding her movement. A groan falls from his lips and her body pangs with arousal from the sound alone. She lets him guide her the rest of the way down at his pace, her body quickly accommodating his. Finally, he's buried completely within her, the air from his breath tickling her lips as his eyes bore into hers. Every inch of her body is almost painfully aware of every inch of his, from his thighs as she rests on top of them, his chest brushing up against hers, his hands tight on her waist and most of all, _him_, buried deep within her, filling her body so completely.

"Okay?" he asks breathlessly, squeezing her waist.

"El," she bucks towards him, gripping his shoulders tightly. His body, still within hers, isn't enough anymore. She needs him to start his rhythm, the only one that can ease the throbbing of her body. "_Move._"

Elliot slides almost all the way out of her and drives back in, sending a whimper tearing through her chest. Jesus, she's waited too long for this. Underneath her, his body fits against hers like a matching jigsaw piece and his hands slide from her waist. One goes to her back, pulling her closer to him so their stomachs rub together with each thrust. The other slides through her hair as he pulls her mouth to his.

"Missed you so much," he growls against her lips. She moans in response and her head falls against his cheek. His body is already beginning to tremble against hers as he drives up into her. He's all around her, soaked into her skin, buried deep in her body. Her need for him- for this- is bordering on physically painful and the only remedy is the moment he spears completely into her. His lips are centimeters from her ear and with each thrust, his breath hitches. He's going to come.

He stills inside of her, raising his head to capture her lips in his. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as his hands smooth up her torso to cup her breasts.

"El," she whispers, thrusting her hips towards him. "Don't stop."

"Gotta," he rumbles against her lips, tweaking her nipple gently. "Gotta take care of my girl."

His hand slides down her body, smooths over her clit, and that, combined with him buried deep within her, sends her over the edge. She barely feels him pull almost all the way out of her and rock back in as he comes.

Her cheek is on his shoulder. Her hand splays out across his chest, which is still shaking and slick with sweat. Both of his hands spread across her back as they try to catch their breath. Finally, he leans up and kisses her gently. "I love you," he whispers, meeting her gaze.

"I love you," she answers. He smiles, guiding her hips up and off of him. With both hands still on her back, he pulls her down to the mattress. The blanket goes over both of their spent bodies as Olivia cuddles into his chest. The moment they cuddle up together, bodies lax, the greatest wave of relief she's ever felt washes over her. She's completely sated- both emotionally and physically- and there's no greater desire she's ever had than to just freeze this moment and hold it within her forever. There's nothing else she wants. Nothing else except the fog of peace and pleasure that fills her mind from not only their post-coitus, but from being back in his bed with his body so close to hers. She's safe and loved and right here, in this moment, nothing else can touch her.

Olivia's eyes close. Elliot's grip on her loosens as she feels his breath start to even out and she knows it won't be long until he's fast asleep. She raises her head just a bit to look at him. All of the muscles in his face are relaxed. Her thumb runs gently over the light stubble that cover his cheeks, but he doesn't even move. A smile slides across her face. "Goodnight, El."

The arm wrapped around her twitches in recognition as he mumbles a soft, "Night, Liv."

"Sweet dreams," she whispers, but she knows he doesn't hear her. He's already asleep.

—-

The heat is suffocating. Smoke fills Elliot's lungs, stealing his breath and burning his chest almost worse than the fire that surrounds him. He reaches for the door handle of the truck he sits in, but the burning metal scorches his hand and he yanks it back, seething in pain. His shoulder pulses, head spins and all of that pain combined with the heat sends a fog denser than the smoke around him through his mind. He can't think properly- nothing registers other than the pain and dread.

The fire is closing in on him. Buckets of sweat pour down his face, nearly blinding him. He reaches for his seatbelt, but like the door, it won't open.

And suddenly, he can't move anymore. The heat makes him tired and lethargic and the smoke fills his lungs. He can't even breathe; he's reduced to wheezing painfully, desperate to get enough air into his lungs, but it doesn't come. _Gotta get out. Gotta get out. Gotta get out. _

The flames are closing in on him faster and faster…

Elliot's eyes snap open. He inhales sharply, choking on nonexistent smoke, and winces as fire shoots down his leg. _A nightmare. Just a nightmare. _He grips his knee, wincing as the pain refuses to lift. His eyes flicker around the darkened bedroom and he remembers where he is. _Home. With Liv. Safe. _

_Safe. _

A sigh slips from his lips. He glances down next to him, where Olivia is still sleeping soundly despite his violent waking. His hand reaches out to run across her warm, smooth forehead and he leans down to kiss her, but still, she doesn't stir. He's grateful. The only thing worse than waking up from a nightmare would be waking her up, as well.

Quietly, Elliot slides from the bed, pulls on the pair of rumpled pants he wore earlier that day and slips out of the bedroom.

It's warm outside. Crickets chirp from the backyard and a gentle breeze flows over the bare skin of his chest as he sits at the end of one of the lounge chairs. Brutus pants lightly as he sits by Elliot's side. He reaches for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and balances one between his lips as he lights it up. His sigh, filled with smoke, rises up towards the night sky and slowly disappears.

"Didn't know you started smoking." The voice floats through the warm summer's night and wrap around him like a blanket. He always loved the sound of her voice.

Elliot takes one more drag, drops the cigarette onto the patio and crushes it with the heel of his boot. When he turns towards her, she's standing in the doorway in one of his old Marine Corps t-shirts, stretched thin over her belly, and a pair of shorts. Her hair is mussed and her eyes are clouded from sleep, but he still can't help but notice how stunning she is.

"I'm gonna quit, I promise."

Olivia purses her lips. He can see the question on her tongue, but she holds it, approaching his chair and sitting down next to him instead. "Okay. What are you doing up?"

Elliot shrugs, gaze flitting down to his hands resting in his lap. He can almost still feel the fire surrounding him; his skin feels hot and still slick with sweat as he tries to shove the dream away. He focuses on the back of his hands, just to try to put something else in his mind. There's a healing burn between his two knuckles. It doesn't hurt; in fact, he hasn't even felt it.

"Nothin'."

"Hey," she says, rubbing his back gently. "Talk to me."

Elliot pulls her closer and sets his cheek down on the top of her head. He's silent for a long moment, contemplating an answer to her request. "I had a nightmare. That's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Elliot shakes his head. The last thing he wants to do right now is talk about his fucked up nightmares when he's trying his hardest to forget them. She doesn't need the stress. He's handled these nightmares before and he'll have to do it again. "I'm okay."

"Come back to bed, then," she murmurs, reaching for his hand.

His stomach growls suddenly and he quickly remembers that the only things he ate today were a breakfast sandwich and a pastry on the plane. He smiles softly at her, grabs his crutches, and says, "I have a better idea."

Olivia sits down at the breakfast bar and watches him rummage through the refrigerator. He pushes aside all of the fruits and vegetables; it's nearing two o'clock in the morning and anything healthy to eat is at the very bottom of the list.

"What's this?" He takes out a Tupperware container filled with pasta.

"Casey's spaghetti and meatballs," Olivia says. "She brought it over a few days ago. It was really good."

Elliot's stomach growls again as he slides the container into the microwave. "Are you hungry?"

"I'm always hungry," Olivia says. Her chin rests on her palm as she watches him, a smile on her face, and just looking at her sends warmth through his heart. He grins, and limps to the cabinet next to the fridge.

"I remember what you like," he mumbles to himself, digging through items stacked on the shelves. He pulls out a can of cheddar cheese Pringles, sets it down on the counter and goes back to the fridge. He finds what he's looking for just as the microwave beeps. The jar of fudge he grabs from the fridge goes into his pocket, he juggles his pasta and her Pringles in his arms with his crutches and starts back towards the bedroom. There's a grin on Olivia's face as she watches him struggle.

"Would you like some help?"

"Nope," he says, leaning down to kiss her. "C'mon."

The lamp is on when Elliot reenters the bedroom. He sets the food in his arms down on the nightstand, drops his pants and climbs back into bed. The other side of the bed dips as Olivia slips into bed next to him. She sidles up to him and rests the side of her head against his shoulder as he digs a fork into his snack. "Can I have a bite?"

Her mouth immediately opens, as if he's already agreed to her request, making him smile. He turns towards her, scoops up some spaghetti and holds it out to her.

"Mm. Delicious. But…" She reaches over him, plucks the jar of fudge and the can of Pringles from the beside table, dips a chip into the sauce and pops it into her mouth. "Even better."

"Can I have one?" Elliot asks.

Olivia's nose crinkles and she shakes her head. "You have spaghetti."

"C'mon," Elliot says, bumping her shoulder with his. "I gave you some of mine."

"You're not pregnant," she says, popping another chip in her mouth.

"No." Elliot hooks his chin on her shoulder. "But you do love me. Please?"

He opens his mouth expectantly. Olivia sighs, rolls her eyes playfully, grabs a chip and dunks it into her fudge. "Here."

Elliot gives her a quick peck on the cheek. He takes the chip between his teeth, but his enthusiastic chewing almost immediately slows. It's chocolatey and salty, but the taste of cheddar cheese is overwhelming. He swallows, and immediately reaches for another forkful of spaghetti to get rid of the strange aftertaste on his tongue. "Ugh. You've been eating _those_ for three months?"

Olivia huffs. "I _told_ you, I'm pregnant. My cravings don't make sense."

Elliot scoops up a mouthful of meatball. "Didn't think they would be _that _weird," he says between chews.

She shakes her head, but rests against his chest as she reaches into her tin for another chip. Elliot looks down at her. A wave of warmth washes over him as his eyes slide over her. He can see the pleasure in the lines of her face as she swallows down another chip, making him chuckle. He still somewhat can't believe that he's here. Under the soft glow of the bedroom in the quiet of the early morning, it seems like nothing else exists except the woman pressed up against his body and her strange snack of choice. No nightmare could ruin this moment. No memory could pull him away from those milky brown eyes.

Stomach full of pasta, he sets the container down onto the beside table and wraps both arms tightly around her. Olivia leans over to set down her tin next to his container before pulling him back down to the matters gently. They end up on their sides facing each other, Olivia's face firmly pressed into the crook of his shoulder and her thigh thrust between the two of his. Elliot leans over to turn off the lamp, bathing the room in blackness.

They lay in silence for a long, comfortable moment. Just as Elliot begins to think that she drifted back off to sleep, her voice floats through the silence. "You feel that? Baby's kicking."

"No," Elliot says. "Where?"

Her fingers close around his wrist and drag his hand further down her body. Elliot holds his breath, pressing his palm into her warm skin. For a moment, he feels nothing, just the slight up and down as she breathes and his heart sinks a little. Did he miss it?

Then, just like that, he feels the little bump against his palm.

"I felt that one," he murmurs, a wide smile crossing his face. That's his baby. In little less than a month, he'll be holding this little one, half him and half Olivia, with her beautiful eyes and warm smile… and best of all, he'll be Daddy. He'll be the protecter, he'll be the provider. He'll teach the little boy how to walk, how to talk, how to treat a lady and how to throw a punch. He'll teach him how to be a good man, how to always put his family first and provide for them when the time comes. And even if he's wrong, if there's a little girl growing inside of Olivia's stomach, he'll be just as ecstatic. A little daughter… he'll treat her like a princess. He'll dance with her on his feet, spoil her with his love, watch her become strong, independent and beautiful just like her mother. He'll cry like a baby when he walks her down the aisle to join with a man of her own.

He'll be Daddy.

Elliot doesn't even feel the tears that glide down his cheeks until Olivia brushes one of them away. "El?"

He sniffles, wiping away the wetness that covers his face, and smiles. "Murph was right," he says with a watery chuckle. "You may have a linebacker in there."

"Our baby girl is not gonna be a linebacker," Olivia says with a playful roll of her eyes.

Elliot leans down and gives her tummy a gentle kiss. "Don't listen to Mommy," he murmurs. "We know you're a boy in there. You're gonna be one of the best linebackers in the league. Now go back to sleep. It's way past your bedtime, isn't it?"

"El-

"Shhh," he says, sliding back up her body and touching his nose against hers. "I think it's past your bedtime, too."

"You're the baby's father, not mine," Olivia says, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"I know. But there's no harm in practicing." Elliot slips his arm back around her waist. "Not to mention, you've got to get your rest. You're gonna need all of your energy."

"You're gonna need yours, too," she murmurs against his chest. "I gave you a pass today, but tomorrow I'll have you running around picking up some of my crazy cravings."

"Don't know how effective that'll be," Elliot answers, eyes closing softly. "I can't run, remember?"

"I'll make you." Her voice is thick with sleep and her breath is starting to even out.

Elliot chuckles lightly, sliding even closer to her. Her skin is warm against his and the cloth of her shirt scrapes along his bare chest. He thinks about pulling the offending fabric over her head, but that will take entirely too much effort. Instead, he turns his head just enough to press his lips against the closest piece of her he can reach, which happens to be her temple.

"Love you," he murmurs.

"Love you, too."

He listens to her breathing for a moment longer, deep and even… in and out… in and out… and finally, it lulls him back to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Told you it was pretty much all fluff. Hope you liked it! Figured after so many angsty deployment chapters, you deserve a ton of EO time.

The baby might be born next chapter. I haven't decided yet.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think!

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening.

-Stabson


	36. Healing

A/N: I'M DONE WITH FINALS. I am so happy right now. One more year and I'll have my Bachelor's. Thank God. Anyway, I'm SO sorry for the lack of updating. Stress mixed with finals mixed with writer's block is not fun at all. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

Elliot had forgotten how much it sucks to quit smoking.

He has a piece of nicotine gum in his mouth, the flavor of which dissipated long ago. He threw away his last pack of cigarettes two days ago, after his promise to Olivia, but the urge to go out and buy more has been tormenting him ever since.

It's late afternoon now, he's sitting on the couch with the TV on in front of him, trying to get his mind off of going out to the nearest gas station as Olivia naps in the other room. They'd been watching a movie- well, more like making out on the couch while a movie played in the background- when she dropped her head against his chest and let out a loud yawn. After she nearly fell asleep on his shoulder, he shook her awake and guided her into the bedroom.

And now he's alone, halfway between falling asleep himself and suffering through nicotine withdrawals. His head hurts, he's nauseous and his knee also hurts but he took his pain meds only a couple short hours ago and he has a couple more hours to go before he can take more.

Sighing, Elliot grabs his crutches from their place leaning against the wall next to him and stands, intent on heading towards the bedroom. He's cold- not physically cold, but the kind of cold that clutches his insides, the kind that only laying next to Olivia can fix.

He's just about to enter the bedroom when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

—-

Olivia is warm. There's a thin blanket covering her and sunlight beams through the open blinds onto her face, but the biggest source of her warmth is the muffled voice in the living room- Elliot's voice, talking quietly to someone on his phone. He's been home for two full days and she still can't quite believe it. They've slept, they've made love, they've laid together in bed in silence, and she's sure he's felt the same sense of disbelief that she has. All in all, it's been two of the best days she's had in a very long while; it brings her back to that week they spent together eight months ago, before he deployed, when nothing else mattered other than their time together. The only difference, the significant difference, is that there is no definite date in which they'll be separated, no underlying sense of desperation to cram as much time together as humanly possible or fear that the moment they part will be their final moment together. He's here. He's not going anywhere. And that thought alone causes the warmth in Olivia's chest to bloom so greatly that she needs to leave the comfort of the bed to seek the comfort in his arms.

Olivia yawns and stretches, wincing as a pang of pain pulses in her lower back. When she pads softly down the hallway towards the living room, the first thing that her eyes catch is his form, sitting on the couch in a pair of jeans and a worn, faded t-shirt. He's hunched forward, his cellphone clutched in both hands. There's a tight frown on his face and his brow is furrowed. Her heart sinks as she senses the grief that radiates off of him.

"El," she murmurs, sitting down beside him. Her hand slips gently over his back and she can feel his tense muscles. "Is everything okay?"

Elliot leans back slowly, his brow sinking further downwards. He swallows and turns slowly towards her. "I just talked to Major Cabrera," he mumbles. Clearing his throat, he flips his phone shut and drops his gaze. "He gave me the date… for Garrett's funeral."

Olivia's heart sinks… no wonder she can feel his heartache. She knows how much Garrett has helped him over the past months and she remembers the completely broken way in which he revealed the news that one of his closest friends had been killed. Hearing about Garrett's death had been profoundly worse than enduring his own injuries. She knows that. Words cannot describe how much she despises the thought, but deep in her head she's convinced that if Elliot could take Garrett's place, he would have.

With the hand that rests on his back, Olivia pulls him close. His chin falls against her shoulder and she feels him let out a shaking breath. "I'm so sorry, El," she whispers, rubbing his back in an effort to comfort him. "When is it?"

"Friday morning," he mumbles into her shoulder. "I should call Juliana, but… I don't know if I can."

Olivia pulls black slowly, looks him in the eye and she's nearly taken aback. His eyes are cloudy and filled with something that she can only describe as… guilt.

"Elliot," she murmurs, cupping his cheek gently. "You almost… you were hurt. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You know that… right?"

Elliot pulls away from her. He leans forward and scrubs his hands over his face, avoiding her gaze. Brutus bounds up to him and nudges his hands apart with his snout. Olivia watches as Elliot's hands run slowly over the top of Brutus's head, then down the back of his neck and back up again. Brutus pants happily and gives Elliot's hand a lick, oblivious to the turmoil in his master. Olivia waits for him to speak, watching as he continues to pet Brutus. He doesn't say anything.

Olivia runs her hand gently over his back. "Elliot. You know that, right?" she murmurs.

He leans back against the couch cushions. For just a microsecond she sees a flinch on his face, and frowns. He's not talking to her. Doesn't he trust her?

Olivia slides off the couch and stands in front of him, shoving the coffee table backwards with the back of her knees. His eyes focus on her, full of confusion, but the red clouding her mind doesn't fade. "Fine. You want to sit here feeling sorry for yourself? Go ahead." With that, she storms down the hallway and slams the door shut behind her.

Elliot's head drops into his hands as soon as he hears the bedroom door slam shut. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels like he's about to enter a war zone. He breathes in, tries to relax, but he just can't. _Fuck. _What the fuck is he doing? He's trying his damnedest _not _to hurt her and what did he do? He fucking hurt her. He hurt her with his silence.

Pain hammers through his knee as he gets to his feet and limps out to the backyard. Fuck the crutches. He needs to get the hell out of here, he needs a breath of air before he implodes.

Brutus jets out into the backyard just before he shuts the slider. He collapses onto one of the lounge chairs, closing his eyes. _Hormones. Fucking hormones, that's it. _

No. He's just being difficult. But he can't lie to her… he does feel guilty. He feels guilty as shit.

_"Elliot!" _

He's not in the backyard anymore- he's trapped back in the truck, smoke billowing around him, choking him. His shoulder burns, knee pulses and he feels like his chest is being crushed. The taste of blood fills his mouth.

_"Gunny? Talk to me, buddy. Come on." _

There's gunfire… so much damn gunfire. One of these bullets is going to kill one of his closest friends and he can't do a damn thing to stop it. He's helpless, he's fucking _useless. _

Stop, stop, _stop. _

_"We gotta get you out of here."_

He gasps for a breath, but the smoke is filling his lungs, choking him.

There's a sudden wet feeling on his arm. He looks up, and into a pair of big, innocent brown eyes. Brutus.

Brutus.

The smoke fades. The gunfire ceases. Elliot grabs the Shepard around the neck and pulls him close, stretching his fingers through the thick coat.

"Thanks, buddy," he murmurs as Brutus's tongue makes contact with his cheek. They sit just like that for a moment, just until Elliot has the strength to release Brutus's neck and give him a pet. "I should probably go beg for forgiveness, huh?"

Brutus barks once, then twice, and Elliot smiles slightly. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

The trek back into the living room is painful. Elliot immediately regrets abandoning his crutches and as soon as he's able, he grabs them. With their assistance, he makes it into the bedroom. Jesus, he can't wait to be healed enough to ditch these things. They're driving him mad.

Olivia is sitting against the headboard when he enters. Her arms are crossed over her chest and he can feel her gaze on him as he approaches. The bed dips under his weight as he sits next to her.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His hand reaches out to touch her leg and he figures it's a good sign when she doesn't pull out from under him. There's a lump forming in his throat- he knows what he has to say, but he doesn't think he can manage it. "I… I'm having a hard time…" He trails off. His gaze falls from hers as he stares at the carpet, cursing himself. This is a fucking mess and he has no idea how to solve it.

The mattress shifts under him as Olivia slides closer. "You know everything about me, Elliot. Even the parts I'd rather forget," she murmurs. "So why are you hiding things from me?"

"I'm dealing with it, Liv. I'm trying to move on. I don't want to…" he pauses, sucking in a deep breath. He looks up, meeting his gaze with hers. "I'm not trying to hide things from you."

Her long, thin fingers trace along his jawline. "So talk to me."

"I'm… just not ready to talk right now," he says. "It's not you. I don't want to… I'm just not ready." He turns his body fully towards hers and reaches for her hands. "Please understand that."

Olivia hesitates. Her eyes scrutinize him for a moment, almost as if she's searching his irises as he stares back. He wonders briefly what she sees… the hellish flashback that he'd experienced just moments ago? His desperate need for her to understand his current state of mind?

"I understand," she says quietly. She reaches for him, pulling him gently into her embrace. His heartbeat finally slows as he relaxes in her arms. It's not easy, he knows. He knows all too well the pains of waiting and wondering, wishing more than anything that the person he cares about would just share their pain. But right now, he can't bring himself to talk. He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to. She's here, though, with him, her arms tightening around his waist, holding his body to hers. That's all he needs right now.

—-

Over the days that follow, Elliot's limp starts to fade. Eventually, thankfully, the crutches go up into the attic of the house, forgotten. It gives Olivia hope, like if his physical wounds heal, his mental ones can as well. She doesn't force him to talk; she's realizes that sometimes, the best thing is to remain silent and simply offer him her shoulder if he needs it. The silence won't last forever, she knows he'll talk eventually, but right now he needs a sense of normalcy, so that's what she gives him. They don't talk about living arrangements or what's going to happen when the baby is finally born, she knows he's not quite in the state to make life-altering decisions. For the moment, she makes them for him. Slowly, steadily, she starts to move more of her things into his place, and soon enough they're living together. He says nothing about the arrangements, but does empty out a few drawers in his dresser and makes some space in his closet for her, so she figures he's okay with the new arrangements.

And they simply live. He still wakes up at five o'clock every morning, and it maddens her because he's just too rigid sometimes. She knows he's try to readjust, though, and keeping the schedule is one of the careful boundaries he's set down so he won't go off the deep end, especially after Garrett's funeral. He barely sleeps the night before the service, and during it, he keeps her hand clutched tightly in his, like it's the only thing that's keeping him from unraveling. Deep down, she knows that she is.

In the days that follow, he wakes up early, keeps himself busy with running out to the grocery store for her strange cravings, playing fetch with Brutus and as soon as the crutches are banished, small workout routines. At first, just crunches and pull-ups on a bar across the spare bedroom door. Once his leg is healed, he adds push-ups and squats. Twice a day he does this, once right when he wakes up and once before he goes to sleep. Sometimes, she watches him. Other times, they sit down on the couch and watch movies, and Murph and Casey come over for dinner nearly once a week.

Three weeks before she's due, they go out furniture shopping together and Olivia loves the smile that it puts on his face. They pick out a crib, a rocking chair and a little dresser. Back at home, he insists that she sit down while he puts together the furniture, which she does only because her back is beginning to bother her. It takes him an hour of fiddling and cursing with the many different pieces of the crib while the directions lay on the floor in the corner. Olivia mentions them once, but Elliot waves her off and says, "It's a crib, how difficult could it be?"

So she says nothing and watches him struggle. Finally, with all of the pieces in their proper place, he jumps to his feet triumphantly and says, "See? Told you it wasn't that bad."

"Good job, Daddy," Olivia says. "But you've still got a dresser and a rocking chair."

For the second two, Elliot looks at the directions.

Two nights after that, deep into the evening when it's pitch black in the bedroom, she's startled awake by his sudden movement next to her.

"El?" Olivia's hands slide over Elliot's bare shoulders and down his back. His skin is slick with cold sweat and coarse with goosebumps. He's trembling and panting so heavily that she's afraid his lungs will burst.

"Hey. You're safe," she murmurs gently in his ear. Her lips descend on the skin of his shoulder blade, then up the back of his neck. "You're home."

He's not hearing her, or if he is, he doesn't understand what she's saying, because the shaking doesn't stop and his breathing doesn't even.

"Elliot." Olivia turns his head towards her. "Look at me. Hey."

"Liv," he rasps, his unfocused gaze meeting her.

"That's it." Her hand slips through his hair, then back down his spine slowly. "Take a deep breath."

He does. His quick, almost painful gasps for air even out slowly, his heart stops thumping so fast in his chest. Olivia doesn't take her hands off of him; her fingernails scrape gently down the skin on his back, up his abdomen, over his chest. She lays kisses along his jaw and collarbone and she can feel his muscles begin to relax under her touch.

Her lips trail up his neck and when she whispers to him, her lips are centimeters from his earlobe. "Lay down."

He does, albeit hesitantly.

"You okay?" Olivia asks quietly. "Want to talk?"

It takes him a long moment of silence, but finally, he nods.

"It was so quiet out there," he murmurs. "At night... if I closed my eyes, it was almost like I was home. Didn't stay like that, though. All the sudden... we'd be diving for cover from mortar fire, or we'd feel an explosion from an IED and pray one of us didn't get hit." She feels his muscles tense against her. He draws in a gasping breath, and lets it out slowly against her forehead. "I remember just sitting outside, watching the sunset with…" _Garrett. _Elliot breaks off, takes another breath, and continues, "Just sitting outside, watching the sky, full of all different colors, we could still hear those mortars. _Whump, whump, whump. _Even when it was peaceful out there, it wasn't."

Olivia pulls back slowly and runs her hand over his cheek. All of a sudden, he looks ten years older. The bags under his eyes look heavy as lead; the frown on his face seems eternal.

"I've been through this before, so many damn times, but... now it just seems different."

Olivia's eyes are immediately drawn to his healing scars. She knows. She knows all too well. Her lips descend on his for just a moment, pouring her thanks for him sharing into the kiss. When they break apart, she murmurs, "You're home."

He nods. "I am home," he says. "Here, with you... I'm home."

Her fingers run lightly over his cheekbone as her heart warms in her chest. He's home, so now this empty house is finally alive again.

"Try to sleep," she whispers.

His darkened eyes study her for a moment, and a small smile comes across his lips. His forehead falls against hers. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she answers. "Sleep."

Finally, his eyes close. Olivia watches him through the darkness as his face begins to relax and his breaths even out slowly. As soon as she knows that he's drifted back off to sleep, her eyes close and she sleeps as well.

Elliot's peaceful sleep lasts for about an hour and half. After that, he awakens from another nightmare and regretfully accepts that tonight is just going to be one of those nights. While he's laying on his back staring up at the ceiling, the urge to get up and go out for a smoke hits him once again, but he manages to convince himself that it's not a good idea. He promised Olivia he would quit, and he also knows that smoking, especially around his pregnant girlfriend and the baby that will soon arrive, is not a good idea.

So he continues to stare up at the dark ceiling. Olivia snores softly next to him, absolutely dead to the world, and he's happy. She needs her sleep, she shouldn't be worrying about him and his nightmares. For now, for the next four or so hours until the sun rises and she rouses from her sleep, he's on his own.

Well, not completely on his own. He still finds solace in her body, relaxed as it curls into his side. Her arm finds a place slung over his waist, but she doesn't wake. He risks a quick kiss to her forehead, and she still doesn't wake.

His nose buries into her hair and he inhales deeply. He might not be able to sleep, but laying next to her is a comfort in itself.

—-

Sleep is finally encroaching on the corners of Elliot's mind. He can barely hear the crickets chirping outside and the breathing next to him when suddenly, Olivia's hand digs into his ribcage and she lets out a gasp.

"Liv?" he mumbles. "You okay?"

The blanket is torn from his chest as she sits up as quickly as her fully expanded belly will allow. "El. I-I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

Olivia's palm comes down hard on his thigh. "For the _baby!"_

_Oh, shit._

* * *

A/N: Yes, I had to end it there :P Baby's coming next chapter. So I've got a question for you guys for the reviews: boy or girl?

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	37. Birth

A/N: The baby is finally coming. Thanks for everyone who has patiently awaited my return... I love all of you guys.

* * *

"El. I-I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

Olivia's palm comes down hard on his thigh. "For the _baby!"_

_Oh, shit. _

"Get _up, _we've gotta _go."_

Elliot's on his feet in a millisecond. _Gotta get up. Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go._ "Right," he says, reaching for the first pair of jeans he sees, folded nearly on the dresser. Baby. The baby's coming, the baby's _coming. _

As soon as he's dressed, Elliot grabs his keys and her hand and all but drags her out to his truck.

"Ow, ow," Olivia says as he backs out of the driveway. "_Shit, _El, I need you to drive."

"I'm going as fast as I can, Liv," he says, tires screeching as he hits the gas.

His heart is pounding so hard in his chest that it's beginning to hurt. _Gotta get there, gotta get there. _She's breathing heavily next to him, gripping the door handle tight. Very soon, he's gonna be a father. _Oh shit. _The thought alone is making him dizzy.

"Hey! You just missed the turn."

_Fuck. _Elliot slams on the brakes and throws the truck into reverse. Multiple tours to Iraq and Afghanistan, watched men lose limbs right in front of him, acted under some of the most stressful conditions imaginable and he can't handle getting the woman next to him to the hospital to have their baby.

_Fucking focus. _

The rest of the drive seems like it lasts forever, but finally, he pulls haphazardly up to the curb and jumps out, leaving his keys dangling in the ignition.

Everything happens in a blur around him. One minute, he's downstairs trying to explain to the nurse that Olivia is going into labor, they need a wheelchair and a room, the next he's being introduced to a short, plump doctor whom he doesn't even remember the name of, and finally he's beside the bed, having his hand crushed as another contraction washes over the woman that lays in the bed next to him.

She curses him. She tells him that he's never going to touch her again and demands why she ever even had sex with him in the first place. He doesn't have any of the answers. He just stands next to her, sure that she's breaking his hand under her grip. And finally, mercifully, Doctor No-Name comes in to give Olivia her epidural. After a moment, Olivia's harsh gaze on him softens as tears sparkle in her big brown eyes.

"I don't want to do this. I can't do this, El," Olivia squeezes his hand tightly."I have no idea how to be a mom."

"Hey," he murmurs as she breaks off, leaning forward to nuzzle his face against hers. She's hot and sticky with sweat, but he doesn't move, simply holds his skin against hers as he feels her heart racing in her chest. And God, is he fucking terrified. This is really happening- she's really about to have his child, the child that they're going to take home and raise and… _fuck. _He barely had his own father, how the hell is he gonna be someone else's?

Elliot swallows the lump in his throat as he looks at her and knows that she'll help him- just like he'll help her. For now, he knows one thing. "You're gonna be amazing, Liv."

Tears stream down her face. "I'm gonna mess this up. I-I can't…"

"Stop," Elliot says, tucking a stand of loose hair behind her ear. "You're the strongest person I have ever known, Liv, and our baby is gonna love you. If anyone can be an amazing mother, it's you. You're already amazing. And besides," he cracks a small smile, letting his lips brush against hers softly, "we've got each other, right? We're gonna do this together."

She opens her mouth to answer, but another contraction hits and his hand is once again trapped in her painful vice. This time, she groans out in pain. "Oh, God."

"Alright, Olivia, it's time!" the doctor exclaims. "Get ready to push."

Olivia's tears run down her face. She's biting her lip so hard that Elliot's afraid she's going to draw blood.

"I can't do it," she says. "I can't."

"You're doing it, Liv," he says, squeezing her hand back. His heart is pounding harder than it ever has during a firefight and the world is nearly spinning around him. This is really happening. This is _happening_. "You're doing it, you just gotta hold on for a little while longer."

Olivia lets out a cry and Elliot can't take his eyes off of her. He's completely spellbound by her- there's sweat pooling down her forehead like she's just run a marathon. Her body is contorting in a way that he didn't even know it could- there's a baby coming out of her, she is literally giving new life. His breath is caught in his chest and he's frozen still, watching the scene unfold in front of him and he almost can't think of the words.

Finally, he squeezes her hand in both of his and whispers in her ear. "You're amazing, Olivia. Amazing. I can't…" he swallows the lump in his throat as tears prickle his eyelids. "I can't believe how strong and beautiful you are."

It seems like the length of his entire life passes in that moment, watching and waiting, suspended in a trance of amazement, infatuation and fear. The baby's crowning. The head is out. The shoulders are out. Everything is unfolding so slowly in front of him that he thinks this labor will never end.

And then the most beautiful sound that he's ever heard hits his ears. It's their baby, letting out its very first cry.

"It's a girl!"

_Their baby girl. _

Tears are completely blurring his vision as he drops his forehead against hers. "You were right, Liv" he breathes, sniffling as the wetness streams down his face. "We have a daughter."

Elliot blinks the tears away and looks up at their little girl. She's absolutely tiny and covered in bodily fluids as she squirms in the doctor's arms and lets out loud, strong cries. Elliot chuckles as water streams down his cheeks. She's a fighter. _Just like her mom_. The nurse offers him a set of scissors. "Here you go, Dad."

_Dad. _His hands shake as he cuts the umbilical cord. He watches, frozen in place as their little baby is weighed and measured and swaddled up into a blanket. Only when Olivia calls him over as their baby is placed into her arms, does he move. He sits on the edge of her bed, eyes glued to the face of their daughter as she rests. Her head is covered with a cap, but he knows that a little tuft of light brown hair is hidden underneath. Her eyes are closed and she has the cutest little button nose he's ever seen.

"Our baby girl," Elliot whispers, smoothing his thumb over her forehead. Olivia looks up at him, and he looks down at her, and their lips meet in a kiss. Without saying another word, he toes off his shoes and she scoots over just enough for him to slide in next to her. They both rest against the pillow and stare down at the baby in her arms.

—-

The second Elliot falls asleep, Olivia knows. He's sitting next to her, his left arm wrapped around her back and right arm under hers as she holds their little girl- the little girl that they haven't named yet. She's just about to talk to him about the name that's in her mind when his head slowly falls against the pillow behind them and his right arm drops from hers, lower and lower. She feels him startle himself awake a few times, but finally, he succumbs to his exhaustion and the sounds of his even breathing fill her ear.

While he sleeps soundly next to her, Olivia's gaze is locked onto the bundle in her arms. Her eyelids are heavy and her bottom half aches in a way that she's never experienced before, but she just can't tear her gaze from their daughter.

_How did something this beautiful come out of her body?_

Tears form in her eyes once again. The past twelve or so hours have been the most physically and mentally draining she's ever had- the pain that punched through her had been absolutely overwhelming. She'd been exhausted and downright terrified and the only things that had kept her going was the man by her bed (even if she did curse him out several times) and the thought that soon the child that they made together would be out in the world. The past twelve hours, the morning sickness, the body aches, the ridiculous mood swings and cravings had been absolutely, completely _more_ than worth it for this moment. She's never experienced the kind of love that is now blooming in her chest.

She and Elliot are parents. They're Mommy and Daddy. All the love that they share between them has been embodied into this little bundle that now rests against her chest. She still has no idea how to be a mother- there is still fear locked in the back of her mind. But one thing that she knows she can offer is her undying, unconditional love.

There's a soft knock on the door and a nurse wearing purple scrubs enters. Her blonde, graying hair is pulled back into a messy bun and soft wrinkles gather in the corners of her eyes and mouth. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and comforting. "Hey there. How are you three doing?"

"Good," Olivia answers. "Sore… but good."

"Good. My name's Darlene," the nurse holds up a baby tag. "I came here to give this little one her tag."

"Sure," Olivia says.

She moves Elliot's hand gently, careful not to jostle him too much and Darlene reaches for the blanket that covers their daughter. There's a smile on her face as she says, "Looks like the birth tired everyone out."

Olivia glances back at Elliot's sleeping face. He hasn't been sleeping very well recently, and combined with being plagued by nightmares and having to wake up before the crack of dawn to come here, she's not surprised that he's lost in a deep sleep at the moment. "It did."

Darlene slips the tag around the baby's ankle. "She's beautiful. Is she your first?"

Olivia glances down, a mix of fear, excitement and love overwhelming her. She blinks back the fresh bout of tears that form. She's been crying far too much recently. "Yeah. She's our first."

The baby's eyes slowly open and she begins to fidget. Shortly after, soft cries start to fill the room. Olivia's heart jumps. _What should she do? _

"Aw. Is someone hungry?" Darlene looks up at Olivia, and the detective immediately wonders how she can tell exactly what's wrong so quickly. How in the world will she be able to learn that? How will she ever be able to tell what's wrong with her baby?

_She knew she wasn't ready for this._

Darlene smiles. "You'll learn how to tell what she needs. It's not as hard as it seems. Here, I'll walk you through feeding."

Olivia nods gratefully. "Thank you."

It can't be too hard, she decides. She can do this. And, like the man still sleeping next to her said, she's not alone. They're in this together.

—-

When Elliot wakes up, he's half expecting a mortar to strike or a gun to fire. Instead, he hears the cooing of a little baby and her mother. He's laying on the edge of the hospital bed, half tangled in the thin blanket that had been covering Olivia.

He turns his head, wincing at the kink in his neck, and his gaze falls on the woman in question, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, hospital gown open at the top as she breast-feeds the little one in her arms. She's barefoot, ankles across lightly, practically glowing. His breath hitches in his throat as he thinks of how absolutely, completely stunning she is… especially with their little daughter resting happily in her arms, sucking away at Olivia's breast.

"Y'know, this bed is supposed to be for you," he rumbles softly, but makes no effort to move quite yet as he admires her form. She'd been amazing… witnessing her give birth to their baby has only made him fall deeper and more irrevocably in love with her… if that's even possible.

Olivia's smile widens as she looks him over with her chocolate irises. "Yeah, but it looked like you could use it more than I could. You were exhausted."

Elliot slides off the bed and drags the extra chair over to her. He palms her cheek gently, leans forward for a kiss, then turns his attention to the bundle in her arms.

"She's perfect," he says, running his thumb gently over her soft, warm, absolutely tiny forehead. Tears sprout once more in his eyes. "Can you believe we made that?"

Olivia chuckles softly, leaning in to press her lips against his gently. It has almost a new meaning now; every time he kisses her, it reminds him of this. They're a family. They're Mommy and Daddy.

"Here, why don't you hold her for a bit?"

Olivia sets her gently into his arms and his breath catches in his throat as her little eyelids slide open. Her eyes are deep blue, like little reflections of his own. He knows they may not stay this blue as she grows, and he hopes they darken and mirror Olivia's.

"We didn't think of any names," he whispers finally, as if speaking too loud would ruin the moment.

"I did," Olivia answers in her own hushed tone. Elliot looks up at her, furrowed brow, asking her silently why it had taken her so long to mention it. She just smiles softly as tears pool in the corner of her eyes. "Ella."

"Ella?" he repeats.

Her hand traces along his stubbled jawline as one of the tears that pool in her eyes breaks free. "I thought of it while you were away." She sucks in a breath, closes her eyes for a brief moment and continues, "I-I always wanted to have a piece of you… just in case…"

Elliot's heart jumps into his throat. If he wasn't holding their little girl in his arms, he'd wrap his arms tightly around her waist, pull her against his chest and hold her forever. Instead, he presses his lips against hers. There's a lump in his throat and the tears threaten to break away from his eyes as they break apart. Her brown eyes bore into his, wondering, but he can't seem to form the words to answer her.

Finally, he rasps, "Ella, then."

* * *

A/N: We're slowly coming to the end of this crazy year-long ride. I only have a few chapters left.

Thanks, leave me your thoughts, and have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	38. Family

A/N: Well, after irritation of reviews not showing up on last chapter, all is right in the world, thankfully. Here's the next chapter for you guys.

* * *

Olivia has to force Elliot out of the hospital room. They've been laying on the bed together, with Ella tucked securely in their tangled arms, for hours when the rumbling in his stomach starts. He makes no move to get up though, simply keeps his chin tucked over her shoulder as they lay in relative silence, the only sound coming from the television on the wall as it softly plays in the background.

"El, go get something to eat."

He doesn't move a muscle. "I will in a little bit."

"The last time you ate was dinner last night. I had lunch an hour ago, you need to eat something. Ella and I will be right here when you get back."

"Liv…"

"Go. We'll be okay for twenty minutes while you're gone."

Finally, Elliot nods against her shoulder and slips out of bed. He beams down at the two of them for a moment before pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. "Alright. I'll be back in a little bit."

And she's left all alone with her baby for the very first time. Without any distraction, the doubt and the fear that had been swirling in her mind earlier is returning. _What makes you think you can raise a child? What makes you think you can be a mother? _Olivia swallows and closes her eyes for a moment, willing those thoughts away. She can do this. She's not alone. She can do this.

Her eyes open once more and she stares down at Ella.

"Hey, Ella," she whispers. "It's Mommy. I just want you to know that I love you so much. And you came from a place of nothing but love. Your Daddy and I…" She thinks of the man that just left, the one that admitted to her himself that he never had much of a father at all. "We're gonna try our best, but we're going to make some mistakes." She swallows, pursing her lips as tears moisten her eyes. _Here she thought the hormones were supposed to go away, not get worse. _"Your Daddy is the most amazing man I've ever known. He's gonna make you feel so safe and loved… like you're the only one on Earth that matters to him."

"And you're gonna be an amazing Mommy." Olivia turns towards the sound of the voice. Elliot leans against the doorframe, hands clasped in front of him as he watches her. His eyes sparkle with pools of water as he approaches the two of them and sits next to her on the bed. His strong, warm hand makes contact with her cheek. "I know how scared you are," he murmurs, leaning in close. "I'm scared, too. But you already love her so much, Olivia. I can tell every time you look at her."

His forehead falls against hers as his eyes flicker down to the baby. He smiles as his gaze meets hers once more. "Yeah, we may make mistakes. Neither of us know exactly what we're supposed to do. But what new parent does? The most important thing- the thing that I know for a fact- is that this little girl is gonna be loved. You're the most amazing woman I have ever known. And if she picks up even a little bit from you, she's gonna grow up to be amazing, too."

"But…"

"I know what you're thinking," he says, pressing his thumb lightly against her lips, stilling them. "And it doesn't matter, Liv. Doesn't matter where you came from, what your father is- or was- or how your relationship was with your mom. You are going to be great. You hear me? _Great." _

More tears stream down Olivia's face. If she wasn't holding their baby in her arms, she'd wrap her arms around him and never let him go. She's still scared- she's still terrified, but he believes in her. _He believes in her. _

"What makes you believe all that?" she whispers, sniffling as she tries to blink the tears away.

"I know you. Shit, Liv, I-" Elliot swallows, averting his gaze for a moment. "I feel the same way as you do, trust me. I'm scared, too. But I look at you and I just know how amazing you're gonna be. I can't explain it, I just know. Can't you believe in yourself, too?"

"I'm trying." Olivia says. "I'm trying."

"Good." Elliot leans in for a kiss. "Oh, I got this downstairs."

He reaches into the pocket of his sweatshirt and takes out a tiny stuffed bear with white fur, a red nose and a bow around its neck. "Her very first birthday present," he says. He takes Ella's little hand and places the bear's arm on her palm. Ella's eyes slide open as her tiny fingers close around it. Her gaze focuses in on the bear, and then up at Elliot, who has huge grin spreading across his face. "Think she likes it?"

"Of course. It's from Daddy, after all."

Elliot's grin grows wider as he nestles the stuffed toy right next to Ella's cheek in the crook of Olivia's arm. He wraps one arm around Olivia, sets his chin on her shoulder and watches the bundle in her arms quietly.

"I called Murph, by the way," he says softly after a moment of comfortable silence. "He and Casey are on their way. Judging from how excited he sounded on the phone, they're probably gonna be here soon."

Olivia chuckles. _That's Murph. _"Okay, I'm gonna go wash off. Will you take her?"

—-

"Of course." Elliot takes Ella gently into his arms, smiling down at her. As Olivia disappears beyond the door of the bathroom with a towel and her little bin of toiletries, he stands and paces around the room, rocking the infant gently. Her tiny eyelids slide open and focus on him, making his heart flutter.

"Hey, there," Elliot says softly, gaze focused intently on her face. His smile grows wider as he sits down in Olivia's chair, letting out a sigh. "You're a very lucky little girl, Ella. You've got the best mommy in the world." His eyes flicker up to the bathroom door and he smiles. "Come to think of it, we're both lucky."

Ella coos softly and squirms for a moment before settling back into his arms. Elliot smiles, and nods. "I'll take that as an understanding." He leans down and kisses her forehead gently. "I love you, baby girl."

—-

When Olivia steps through the bathroom door, her gaze immediately focuses on the chair she'd been sitting in. Elliot's resting comfortably on it, leaned back with his eyes closed. Even after his nap, she can still see the lines of fatigue on his face. He's still wearing a smile, though, and she knows that she can attribute it to the bundle that rests against his shoulder. Ella's head rests in the crook of his neck and he's holding her securely with one hand on her back and the other on her bottom. She's never seen something so heartwarming.

"Hey," he greets softly, his eyes meeting hers. "Feeling better?"

Honestly, she somehow feels like there's a brick in her underwear and her lower back still aches. The hot water of the shower had brought some relief, but the longer she's out from under the spray, the more that pain is coming back. Judging by how she's feeling now, she guesses it will be a while before her body will bounce back. _She did just push a person out of her body, though. It'll take some time._

"Slightly better," she says. "How's she doing?"

"Good. I think she fell asleep," Elliot murmurs, smiling as he glances at the bundle. "Here, sit."

"No, no," she says before he gets the chance to stand. "Stay there." Instead, she sits down on the hospital bed, eyes locked onto him and Ella. Elliot's eyes remained locked on hers for a moment, but his attention is quickly drawn back to the baby as she coos in his ear.

Elliot is right. After only a few minutes, there's a knock on the door and Olivia hears Murph's voice, "Knock, knock."

A huge smile is plastered across Murph's face as he enters, Casey's hand tight in his grip. "Where's my little linebacker?"

"She's right here," Elliot says.

"Alright, old man. Hand her over to Uncle Murph!" Murph says, holding out his arms. Elliot stands and carefully transfers Ella into Murph's waiting arms. He sits next to Olivia, who takes her hand in his. Casey approaches, smiling down at the bundle that now rests in Murph's arms.

"Wow," she murmurs, glancing up and Elliot and Olivia. "She looks exactly like the two of you. Little Ella, huh?"

"Yup, Ella." Olivia swears she sees Elliot's chest puff out. She glances from him to Murph, who's standing as still as a statue as he stares down at the baby. She swears she sees tears in his eyes.

"Murph, are you crying?" Casey asks.

"Me? Of course not," he says, blinking hard. He grins down at the bundle in his arms. "Hey, little linebacker, I'm your Uncle Murph." He sits slowly, as if making too sudden a move will hurt her. "I'm gonna teach you how to play football better than all the boys, and then maybe one day how to spar and you'll learn to pack a mean punch like your old man."

"We'll see about that," Olivia murmurs under her breath. She thought that all of the football talk would end once Murph learned that the baby was a girl, but it seems like it's just spurred him on.

_We've got plenty of years to get that idea out of his head. _

Murph glances up at her, but looks back down to Ella quickly. "Don't listen to your Mommy. You're gonna be the best one on the team, I know it. And after I'll take you out for ice cream and tell you all of the embarrassing stories about your Mom and Dad, 'cause I know they'll have plenty about you…"

The baby coos softly and Murph's smile widens. "Look how adorable she is, Case! Can we have one, too? Please?"

"You and what uterus, Murphy?" Casey fires back. "Want another nine months of hormones and cravings, I thought you had enough of it with Olivia."

Olivia watches the thoughtful look on Murph's face for a long moment. Elliot is chuckling softly next to her, still squeezing her hand tight, and she smiles. Finally, Murph says, "You make a good point. But look at this little one, you can't tell me it wouldn't be worth it."

"Sorry, Murph, we're not having a baby. You've got baby Ella there for now," Casey says. Her hands stretch out towards Murph and the bundle in his arms. "Speaking of baby Ella, hand her over here. I want to hold her, too."

Olivia watches as Murph hands over the bundle and Casey smiles. "Look at her. She's going to break a lot of hearts when she grows up."

"Not until she's twenty-five," Elliot huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, "Right, Murph?"

"Absolutely," Murph says. "I'm with you on that."

Olivia rolls her eyes as she meets Casey's gaze, but her heart flutters at Elliot's reaction. He's already acting like the protective father she knew he'd be and though she knows that Ella eventually won't like it, she absolutely loves the fact that their daughter will have such a good man in her life. Two good men, actually- a great father and uncle who will protect her fiercely.

—-

The sun has set and the crickets are chirping when Elliot, Olivia and Ella arrive home. Murph and Casey had stayed for most of the afternoon with them, taking turns holding the baby until Olivia's doctor came in and happily announced that she and baby Ella could be discharged as soon as they got the papers ready. It had been a long wait, but by the time the sun set, they were loading their baby into the recently purchased car seat and making their way home.

"I'm gonna grab the mail. I'll be in, in a minute," Elliot says as they meet in front of the hood of his truck. He gives Olivia a kiss, and then presses one to Ella's forehead as a smile crosses his face. Olivia knows exactly what he's thinking- he can't believe they really have this little bundle home with them. She can't believe it, either.

It's dark inside the house. Olivia flicks on the light in the kitchen and makes her way down the darkened hallway to the nursery. The lamp in the corner closest to the door bathes the room in warm light as it bounces off of the pale green walls. Olivia sets Ella down into the crib and gazes at her for a moment, warmth filling her chest as she watches the little girl sleep.

"Goodnight, Ella," she whispers.

Back in the kitchen, Elliot sits at the bar with a piece of paper in both hands and the stack of mail he retrieved next to him. His jaw is locked tight and she can't decipher the emotion that is written across his face.

"Baby?" Olivia asks, approaching him quickly. Her hands fall onto his shoulders and she can't help but notice how tense his muscles are.

"She asleep?" he breathes, folding the piece of paper in his hands before she can get a look at it. The only thing she notices is the stark, black logo of the Marine Corps printed on the left corner.

"Yeah." She reaches for the letter, heart rate climbing quickly, but he doesn't release it, even when her fingers close around the fold. After realizing that she's not going to get it from him, she asks quietly, "What is that?"

He doesn't answer her. Her heart is racing in her chest now as her head spins with all of the possibilities. _He's on medical leave. They can't be asking for him back, can they? They can't need him already. _During all of the time that he's been home from his deployment, she hasn't brought up his job once and he hasn't mentioned it, except to tell her that he's on leave for the moment. She feels stupid for not asking about it before; of course they're going to need him back. But after all of the nightmares, after the way his deployment ended, she figured the less they talked about it the better. And now…

_She's going to have to do this all over again… with a baby this time. _

"Elliot, what is that?" she whispers, lump forming in her throat, tears building in her eyes. She can't stand this silence anymore. _They're happy. His nightmares are just starting to get better. Their little girl _**_just _**_came into the world. How can they do this again? _

Elliot takes a deep breath and turns fully towards her. "I'm still on leave. I'll be off for a another little while, especially with the baby." He glances down the hallway towards the nursery, then meets her gaze. "But… my enlistment is almost up."

_He could retire. _

Immediately, her thoughts of saying goodbye to him once again are replaced with thoughts of returning home from work to him and their baby. It's not as bad as she thinks. This isn't bad, this could be good. She could be getting him home permanently now. _No more late nights. No more deployments. No more living for days on end without him. _

_But only if he leaves. _

"Are you going to retire?" she asks softly, almost dreading what the answer will be. _He got hurt. He's still having nightmares. They have a new baby. He _**_has_**_ to… right?_

But as those thoughts flow through her brain, filling her up with hope, all's her statement does to Elliot is make him cringe. The hope in her chest immediately falls and her spinning emotions are making her exhausted. She's not sure how much longer she can sit here without knowing what he's thinking.

Elliot reaches out and takes both of her hands in his. When he looks back to her, her heart sinks lower. He has the same look on his face that he did when he sat her down and told her he was deploying. He's getting ready to break her heart.

"Jesus, El, just tell me what you're thinking," she breathes.

His Adam's apple bobs as his gaze drops. His hands squeeze hers tightly and she wants to pull out of his grasp and strangle him. _Say something. Please, just _**_say_**_ something!_

Finally, his words cut through the oppressive silence. "I don't know, Olivia."

Just like that, his shoulders sag with the weight of everything.

_"You still don't know what you want to be when you grow up, huh?" _

She'd been joking then, but suddenly she knows the magnitude of it all. It's not just about her and their baby, it's about fifteen years of dedication. It's all he's ever had, all he's ever known.

It's a lot more complicated than she thought it would be.

—-

For the first time in Elliot's life, he really doesn't know what to do.

He feels like an idiot for not thinking of this sooner. He's known about his impending end of active service date since before his deployment, but in all the excitement of leaving and then hearing about Olivia's pregnancy… he just hasn't had the time or the capacity to think about it. The letter in his hands had been like a sucker punch. He thought he would have more time to think about this, to consider this. But now a decision has to be made and he's not sure if he's ready to make it.

Before her, it had been so simple. He loved his job, he never even questioned his commitment or if he'd ever leave. Before her, he would have called up his career planner immediately and started the re-enlistment process. He was convinced that he'd either die doing his job or age out as an old man… because he loved going to work and giving everything he had and more. It never mattered when he deployed or how long he was gone because, aside from Murphy, no one cared.

But the day he had to leave Olivia is one of the most painful memories of his entire life. He'd endure getting hit by an IED several times over before living even one more moment of witnessing the fear and the uncertainty in her eyes as he stood in front of her, the bus full of Marines waiting to take him away. Can he really sign up for another four years with that in mind?

"You don't have to leave, El," Olivia whispers, the pain in her voice so completely visible that it nearly brings tears to his eyes. She doesn't want him to leave… he knows that. Why would she? He knows how bad it was for her without him here, it was exactly the same for him day after day in that desert. The lack of sleep, the danger, the raging hot sun, he could handle all that. He's handled it for years. But the permanent knife piercing his heart had been unbearable, and for those eight months he'd been gone, it had been constant. He doesn't know if he's strong enough to endure it again.

Not to mention he'd be leaving his little girl… the little girl that he'd just met hours ago but that already stole his heart and made him truly believe that there is no life without her.

"I'm not going to make you leave." Olivia whispers.

"I know you're not. But you and Ella…" Elliot swallows, drops his head and just breathes for a moment. Finally, he looks back up at her. "I just need to think about it for a while."

"That's okay," Olivia says, taking his cheek in her palm. "I'm right here, El. Whatever you decide."

Elliot's forehead drops against hers. He'd like to think her support gives him some relief but his head is still spinning. He's suddenly exhausted… the past twenty-four hours are quickly catching up with him. "Thank you," he whispers. He leans forward and presses his lips gently against hers. "I love you."

"I love you," she answers.

His heavy eyelids slide closed as his forehead rests against hers. Her hands are running over his shoulders and his back and then under his shirt along his skin.

"I still owe you a massage," he murmurs, suddenly remembering their bet.

"I haven't forgotten," Olivia says. "You'll get your chance to give it to me. For now, come to bed with me."

She doesn't have to ask him twice. His future is uncertain, he doesn't know what's going to happen in the next few months, but tonight he has her and their baby girl. And that's more than enough.

* * *

A/N: Mommy, Daddy, Uncle and Aunty love their baby girl.

What do you think? Should Elliot retire? Give me your thoughts in the box below, and as always-

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	39. Conflict

A/N: See you at the end.

* * *

Elliot sleeps for a few hours before he is once again startled awake. This time, the relief comes just before he bleeds out in the middle of the desert, Olivia's voice shouting that if he loved her, he wouldn't leave her. He slides out of bed, slips from the bedroom and makes his way down the dark, silent hallway, then out into the backyard. Brutus bounds out next to him before he closes the slider softly, and only then does he allow the ragged breaths to expel from his aching chest. _Fucking nightmares. Fucking deployments. Fucking job._

Brutus drops a tennis ball in front of him, intent on playing, but he's not in the mood. He steps over the ball and moves further into the backyard, towards the woodpile next to the fire pit. It's close to three o'clock in the morning and the world is nearly silent around him, but he's suffocating, he needs to move. So he finds himself swinging an ax over his head, chopping thick logs from the large pile behind the fire pit into wedges. With each swing, he delivers a little more force until he's breathing heavily and sweat pools on the small of his back despite the cool summer night. Even then, he keeps going. He brings the ax down as hard as he can, lodging it into the big, thick log he's using as a base.

His job fucking sucks. He should call tomorrow and end this misery.

But he can't… he just can't. Just like the three other times he's re-enlisted, he finds himself drawn back for reasons beyond his understanding. It's a calling… Elliot snorts at the clichéd thought, but can't help but think that it's true. What else would keep him going back after all these years?

By the time Elliot calms down enough to head back inside, a half hour has passed. He walks slowly through the kitchen, fingertips sliding over the cool granite countertop. Olivia's purse sits against the wall, slightly ajar, right next to his keys. The book she'd been reading, _A Tale of Two Cities_, sits next to her reading glasses and Elliot is reminded of the package that she sent him in Iraq. _Pride and Prejudice. _He hasn't gotten a chance to open it. It's sitting in his pack, shoved deep into his closet along with the rest of his gear, still mixed with sand and dirt. He should get around to cleaning it out… but right now, he just doesn't think he can. Not yet.

Elliot sits down at the breakfast bar and picks up the book. A piece of folded lined paper keeps Olivia's place and he's careful not to disturb it as he flips to the first page.

_It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way… _

He sets down the book and takes a breath, rubbing his hands over his face. The skin of his palms scrape against his growing beard, reminding him of his growing need to shave. A sigh prickles the inside of his lips, but he doesn't release it.

_He has a daughter, but his future is now uncertain. He knows he needs to be there for her and with her, but for some reason he still doesn't want to give up his job- the job that can drag him away from her. He's so unbelievably happy… but… _

Elliot shoves the book away, stands and moves into the living room. The afghan that always used to rest across the back of her couch is now on the back of his and there is a new picture resting on the end table. It's one of the two of them that Elliot doesn't even remember taking. They're standing side by side with her head resting against his chest and her arm wrapped around her waist… her eyes look beautiful. She always looks so beautiful.

_They could be a regular couple. He could get a nine to five, come home every day at the same time with no sore muscles to his daughter and the woman of his dreams… _

Elliot sets the photo down and walks slowly down the hall. Instead of heading back into the bedroom he shares with Olivia, he slips into the nursery as quietly as possible, stands in front of the crib and stares down at his daughter. She's sleeping peacefully, wrapped up in a blanket that Elliot doesn't even remember buying. The thought makes him a little guilty… he hasn't been exactly easy during this transition with Olivia. Hell, he didn't even realize she was trying to move in until her keys took permanent residence with his on the counter and her clothes started to mix with his in the laundry bin. It isn't supposed to be like this. He's supposed to be taking care of his girls, Olivia shouldn't have to worry about both him and their baby.

Their baby… Elliot focuses once more on the little bundle and he melts a little.

_I love you, Ella. _

He wants to pick her up and cradle her in his arms, to see her open her eyes and stare right back at him. She's perfect… so damn perfect that it brings tears to his eyes. He only wishes that he could be perfect for her, as well.

Elliot sighs, gazes at her for a moment longer and finally slips back into the bedroom. His dress blues are hanging on the back of the door. The last time he wore them had been Garrett's funeral, where he stood next to Olivia with tight lips, squinted eyes and a rigid back, wishing more than anything that he could somehow hide his tear-filled irises. Not to mention, he couldn't even meet Juliana's eyes, no matter how many times she told him it wasn't his fault. Besides having to leave Olivia, that tops the list of the worst days he's ever had.

Elliot's fingers run up the shiny, gold buttons to the medals that sit on the lapel of the jacket. _He's had a long career… a successful career. Well, as successful as it could have been. Maybe it's time to go. _

If he re-enlists for another four years, Olivia could be sitting in Juliana's place next. The thought of the woman he loves, sitting on a chair in a funeral home next to his lifeless body with tears in her eyes and their daughter in her arms sends a knife through his chest. _Olivia doesn't deserve to have to be a single mother. Ella deserves both of her parents. He has to stick around… for both of his girls. _

"El?" The sleepy voice flows weightlessly through the darkness. "What're y'doin'?"

"Nothin,'" he murmurs, crossing the room to his side of the bed. Sliding in gently, he adds, "I'm here. G'back to sleep."

"You okay?" she asks.

Elliot pulls her warm body against his and can't help the sigh of warm relief that fills him thanks to her touch alone. "Yeah."

"Okay. G'night." Her voice is muffled as she buries herself deep in his chest. Elliot nuzzles his nose into her hair, inhales the scent of coconut, and lets his heavy eyelids flutter closed.

—-

When Olivia awakens, the first thing she registers is the strong pair of arms that wrap securely around her waist. Her eyes open slowly, she blinks the sleep out of them and lifts her head from Elliot's shoulder. His eyes are still closed and his mouth is slightly ajar as he sleeps. Her hand runs gently down his cheek, then his bare chest to the metal tags around his neck.

_Stabler, Elliot J., _she reads, _A POS. 880 12 9647. USMC L. Catholic. _

_"Are you going to retire?" _

_"I don't know." _

She thinks that had been the worst answer he could have given her. At least if he said yes or no, she'd know how to feel right now. She'd know if she could take a sigh of relief, curl up next to him knowing that he will never be in the kind of danger he's been in again and move on with him and the little girl in the room next door, or prepare herself for four more long years of living hell. How can it even be a question? Does he love her and their child less than the job that almost killed him?

_That's not true. _

If he goes back, what the hell is she going to do? How will she go on? She knows what being a single mother is like… _What if she loses him? What if she turns into her mother? _Olivia sighs. The thoughts are exhausting but she can't get them out of her head. She thought she was done dealing with these what-ifs weeks ago.

Soft crying echoes through the open door of the bedroom and Olivia slides quickly out of bed. Ella lays in her crib, sobs falling from her little lips. Brutus sits next to the crib, nose poking through the bars as he stares intently at the wailing bundle, and Olivia can't help but smile a little bit. The next time she wails, he throws his head back and howls, as well. Olivia pets his head gently. "Shh. I've got her, boy."

She then lifts Ella into her arms and rubs her back, rocking back and forth slowly. "I'm here, baby," she whispers softly. "Is someone hungry?"

She has no idea if this is what Ella really needs, but she sits down in the rocking chair next to the crib anyway and slides the bottom of her shirt up over her breast. Ella latches onto her nipple and sucks away happily and Olivia breathes a sigh of relief. At least she's not completely hopeless when it comes to her baby. She stares at her for a long moment both nerves and unconditional love swirling within her. She tries to imagine what it must be like for her father- thinking of leaving for months and months at a time and never seeing this beautiful little face, but she can't do it. How could anyone willingly leave this behind?

Olivia sighs. There's no point in killing herself over this. Right now, she just has to wait.

Her eyes flicker back up to Brutus, who is now watching curiously with his wide brown eyes. "This is Ella," she tells him. "She's our baby girl and we love her very much. And she's gonna love you."

Brutus pants happily, closing the distance between them and leans forward. He sniffs at the blanket that Ella is wrapped in, then gives it a few licks. Olivia smiles. "That's a good boy. Nice and gentle."

Brutus's tail wags and he curls up on the floor next to the rocking chair.

"Good morning." Elliot's voice is a soft, tired rasp as he stands in the doorway, arms crossed loosely over his chest. There are bags still under his eyes and she instantly knows last night wasn't one of his good nights. He looks like he should go right back into their room and go back to sleep.

"Morning," she answers softly.

Elliot closes the distance between them and watches their daughter intently, a whisper of a smile forming on his face. "How're my girls doing this morning?"

"I think your daughter inherited your appetite," Olivia says, smiling as she looks back down Ella, who's still sucking with vigor.

"Sure it's not your appetite, too?"

"Hey, you better watch it."

Elliot chuckles and leans forward to kiss her. "I know, I know."

Another long moment passes by in silence, Ella sucking and Olivia watching Ella and Elliot watching the two of them. Finally, Ella releases her and she slides her shirt back down.

Though she already knows the answer, she asks anyway, "How'd you sleep?"

The whisper of a smile immediately turns into a frown. He shrugs, and doesn't answer.

Questions about his re-enlistment immediately form on the tip of her tongue, but she bites her lip, holding them back. It's going to take more than a night for him to decide, she thinks. There's no way he's made up his mind already, especially if his dreams were plagued with nightmares.

She can't ask him about that, but there's a burning desire within her that just won't leave. She needs to know what he's thinking. "Talk to me?"

Elliot's hands rub together slowly. "'Bout what?"

Olivia shrugs, unwilling to dredge up what she really wants closure with. Elliot knows immediately, though, and sighs. "You know I'd hate to leave the two of you."

Olivia nods, rocking Ella gently. She can't meet his eyes, not right now.

"The idea of givin' it up… I'm gettin' there with it," he says gruffly, voice heavy with emotion and the accent she rarely hears. "But you gotta understand where I'm comin' from, Liv. I dunno if…" He clears his throat and shakes his head.

_He doesn't know if he'll be able to do anything else. _

"You want to keep doing something that could kill you?" she whispers, finally meeting his gaze. "Keep doing something that makes both of us miserable for months at a time?"

_Shit. _She promised herself she wouldn't try to influence his decision, but she can't help the words that bubble up in her chest.

"I can't do this without you." _I need you more than they do. _

"You think this is easy for me?"

Olivia meets his eyes, glistening in the morning light that pours into the room through the blinds, and shakes her head. "No. I thought it would be easy for you. I guess I was wrong."

Guilt washes over his features. He turns from her, gripping the wooden railing of the crib and his shoulders slump with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Olivia," he murmurs. He turns back towards her slowly. "Is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry giving up a fifteen year career isn't an easy decision for me."

"I thought being here for your daughter would be."

Elliot's eyebrow twitches. He opens his mouth to say something else, but shakes his head instead. After a long, silent moment, he whispers, "Just tell me not to go back."

"Don't go back," she whispers, meeting his gaze, and she knows it's selfish but right now she doesn't care. "We need you here. Don't go back."

He stares at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then closes the distance between them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Ella's forehead and then one to hers. "I love you," he rasps, and before she can respond, he's out the door.

The tears in Olivia's eyes nearly fall, but she manages to hold them back. Who knows if he's going to fulfill her request? Who knows what the hell is going through his damned head now?

—-

Elliot goes right out back to the pile of logs and, like earlier this morning, begins chopping. They have enough firewood to last a campfire a night for three summers, but with his knee still not at a hundred percent yet, it's the only thing he can think of to clear his mind without taking a run. So he chops and chops until his muscles burn, and keeps on going. Finally, he sets down the ax and collapses onto one of the folding chairs next to the fire pit with a deep breath. His eyes close and he almost thinks he can fall asleep where he sits, but her voice draws him back awake.

"Murph and Casey are coming over," Olivia says softly.

Elliot stands a stares at her. Her hair falls down around her shoulders, her face is still round and belly quite large. She's beautiful… absolutely beautiful. When he reaches out for her, she says nothing, and when he pulls her close, her head falls against his shoulder willingly. It takes another moment for her arms to wrap around his, but they do, and she holds him tight.

"I love you," he murmurs. "You know that, right? There's no one I'd rather be with than you and baby Ella."

"I thought this would be easy for you," Olivia murmurs. "I know you've been there for a long time and I know you love it. But…"

"But I have a daughter and a woman here that I love. I'm not gonna forget that," Elliot whispers. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."

Olivia rests against him for a long, silent moment, and he continues to hold her tight. He'll never forget how good she feels in his arms…

"I'm gonna get in the shower," he says finally. When she looks at him, he takes the opportunity to kiss her softly. And, even though he's said it already, he tells her again, "I love you."

—-

When Murph and Casey arrive, Murph immediately calls for his little linebacker, which he's affectionately shortened to 'LB,' and takes her gently from Olivia's arms. "How do you like your new home? C'mon, I'm sure your folks didn't show you the backyard yet. That part's gonna be the most fun."

"Murph-

Elliot squeezes Olivia's shoulder. "I'll go out with him. It's a beautiful day outside, I think she'll be okay."

Olivia seems to hesitate for a moment, but finally nods. Elliot gives her a quick kiss before following Murph out into the backyard.

"This is where me and your old man are gonna teach you how to throw a ball. Don't worry, I'll convince your Mommy you'll be okay. And the fire pit out there, we're gonna have campfires with hotdogs and marshmallows all summer long."

"You having fun with my little girl?" Elliot asks, approaching his friend with a smile.

Murph turns towards him. "Man, you are one lucky son of a gun. You've got a beautiful woman and this little one…"

"I know, I am lucky. I don't ever want to leave 'em."

Murph nods, looking down at the baby. After a moment of silence, he asks, "When do you go back? To work, I mean."

Elliot's getting sick of people asking him that question. Shuffling his feet, he says, "I don't know. First I have to decide whether I want to re-enlist or not."

Murph nods. "I forgot the end is coming up for you. What does Liv think?"

"What do you think?" Elliot sighs heavily. "She doesn't want me to go back."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"That's the question, isn't it? I don't know. All I do know is," Elliot nods towards Ella, "I love that little girl." He's never known such a love in his entire life. Every time he thinks about her, his heart swells and he thinks of everything he wants to see. Her first words, her first steps. He wants to know whether she'll have Olivia's courage and strength. Whenever he's away from her, he can't wait to go home and just hold her in his arms for hours. Her and her mother… those two make his life worth living. "I love her so much, I'd be crazy to go back and miss out on anything with her."

"So put in your papers," Murph says.

"And do what? Only thing I know how to do is fire a weapon."

"That's not true." Murph smirks, punching his shoulder playfully. "You pack a mean punch, too. Follow Liv's lead, become a cop."

"Yeah, right," Elliot scoffs. "The shit they go through? I'd hit every perp I see."

They sit silently for a long moment. "Maybe I'll go back to school," he muses finally. "Why not? I'll get it for free."

"That's my plan," Murph says.

Elliot scrutinizes the soldier for a long moment, surprised by the sudden admission. He's known in the back of his head that Murph's end date is coming up soon, as well, he just hasn't thought about his friend's plans. "So you're discharging, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm not like you, man, I joined because I wasn't ready for school. Never thought I'd be a career soldier. Besides, I've got everything I want right here. A beautiful woman. A niece that's cute as hell. I don't wanna go back up to Washington away from all you guys."

"Well, when you put it like that I feel like an ass," Elliot says. "Listen, I…" he swallows back the lump in his throat. "I know it's hurting her and I can't… I feel terrible. I never want to hurt her."

Murph reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. "It's your decision, buddy. Make the right one."

He wants to. He needs to. Problem is, he just needs to figure out what the right one is.

Elliot is nearly lost in thought when Ella begins squirming and fussing in Murph's arms. "Uh-oh. Better get her back inside to Mommy."

With a chuckle, they step back through the slider and into the living room with Casey and Olivia.

—-

Casey and Murph stay for most of the evening, and finally take off around seven o'clock, soon before Elliot and Olivia put Ella to bed. Later that night, while Elliot is in the bathroom splashing cool water on his face to rid himself of yet another one of his nightmares, he hears a soft cry from across the hall.

"What's the matter, baby girl?" Elliot asks gently, lifting Ella up out of her crib. He shifts her into his left arm. "Did you have a bad dream?" His hand looks massive as it pats her tiny back. His tone drops and he whispers his next words into her ear. "It's okay. Daddy does too, sometimes."

Ella's wails cease and her head falls against his shoulder.

"I don't know where I'd be without you two," Elliot murmurs, smiling down at her. He thinks back to those moments in the truck with smoke billowing all around him, blood seeping over his eyes and some of the most intense pain he's ever known crashing over him. He'd been so close… in the truck, on the ground, then on the stretcher as he was loaded into a helicopter. So close to embracing the warm darkness that had enveloped him, so close to surrendering to sweet oblivion.

There had only been two thoughts that had prevented that.

"Actually, I know exactly where I'd be," he whispers. His lips fall to her forehead and he rests his cheek on the top of her head, rocking back and forth slowly. His eyes slide closed and the silent room surrounds them.

"And I'm thinking about risking that again. What kind of sense does that make?" he murmurs. Ella coos softly and Elliot's eyes pop open once more. "It's all I know. All I've ever known. But it's not just that… I love it. Absolutely love it."

Elliot chews on his bottom lip as he watches Ella watch him. She's got her mother's cute, button nose, he thinks. The shape of her eyes, her nose, the little tuft of dark brown hair on her head, they're all completely, utterly Olivia. When he looks into her eyes… his heart melts completely. The irises that he looks into are not his, not completely, at least. They're a shade of blue darker, and just a little bit grayer, like Olivia's brown eyes are fighting to come to the surface. He's looking at Olivia and him all at the same time, and he never wants to break his gaze. Here, staring down at his beautiful daughter who came into this world earlier than he never thought he'd have a child, one thing becomes absolutely clear: he can never leave her like he had to leave her mother. He can't make her go through the pains of a deployment, of waiting and worrying and waiting. He can't.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reviewing the last chapter. Your suggestions have definitely been heard! There's only two or three chapters left to go in this before it'll be complete.

Please leave your thoughts. Next chapter, Elliot makes his decision.

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


	40. Revival

A/N: See you at the end.

* * *

"I decided." The words cut through their silence like a knife. Elliot and Olivia sit together on the back patio, sharing a lounge chair as they simply rest. It's been nearly a week of waiting, wondering, imagining both of the choices Elliot might make and what Olivia would do or think for both. She hasn't gone back to work yet, and neither has he, so they spend their days together with Ella, a sort of silent strain permeating each of their interactions. She's sick of it. She wishes he would make a decision already so she'd know what to feel.

When she turns to look up at him, he's staring out at an undefined space in the yard, head resting against the back of the chair. She doesn't ask, but she's dying to know. The possibility of another four years filled with deployments scares the hell out of her; she doesn't know what she'll do if that's his decision. "Yeah?"

Elliot nods. He's still not looking at her, and it's making her nervous. Why can't he look at her? "My career planner and I had a long conversation…" His mouth turns upward into a tiny smile as he lets out a soft chuckle. "It's funny. I haven't spoken to him longer than five minutes in ten years, since I moved from infantry to reconnaissance. I told him all about you and Ella."

"What did he say?"

Elliot finally turns towards her, his arm tightening around her waist. He's gripping her like she'll disappear at any moment, his eyebrows are slightly furrowed and it looks like there's a decision that he can't quite make on his mind. Olivia bites her lip as she waits for his answer, but he's fallen silent once more. A second passes. Another second passes. She's slowly going insane waiting for his answer- why can't he just say it? She just needs to know.

Just as Olivia is about to ask him again, Elliot speaks.

"He told me he doesn't blame me for thinking about wanting out. I want to be here. For you, for Ella… I want to be here for her first words, her first steps, I want to see her off on her first day of school. I can't go back overseas and hear about all these things over the phone or email. I can't do it." His palm spreads over her cheek as he breathes in deeply, catching his breath. His irises, darkened by emotions, bore into her. "And I need to be here for you. I love you, I… can't live without you for months and months at a time, not again. But…" Elliot lets out a shaking breath and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Olivia swallows back the lump in her throat as her heart drops into the pit of her stomach. He's going back. He's going to break her heart, she knows it.

"But I can't leave now." His voice drops to a whisper and there's no air in her lungs anymore. Sobs rise in her throat, but she can't bear to let them go. _She knew it. She _**_knew _**_ it._ "I'm re-enlisting."

Olivia's heart spirals from her chest to the very pit of her stomach. Both anger and anguish rise in the form of a lump in her throat and she tries to swallow it back, but her body isn't cooperating with her. She wants to scream. She wants to jump to her feet and pound him on his chest, grab his shoulders and shake him, demand that he change his mind, make him call his career planner back up and have him send the discharge papers. _Four more years of deployments. Four more years of worrying and waiting. Four more years with the thought of losing you forever. How can you do this? _

"You're leaving us," Olivia whispers, and just the thought makes her sick. "Even after everything…" She can't finish. Before he can say a word, she's shoving him away and fleeing to the back door. _No. No. No. She can't do this. _She needs space- she can't be so close to him anymore. His body as turned into fire that scorches her every time she gets close.

No matter how much she tried to tell herself that she would support him in whatever decision he made, she can't live with this one. _He's going back. He's going to deploy again, he's going to spend eight months at a time away in some hellhole instead of here with his family. He could get hurt. He could get ki- _

Olivia chokes and a wave of nausea washes over her. She can't let herself think of that again.

"Liv, wait-

He tries to take her arm, but she yanks herself away from him and makes it into the house, slamming the sliding glass door behind her.

_She's gonna have to worry about losing him forever again. He's gonna make their child live without her father. _

The air conditioner is on, filling the room with a pleasant, cool breeze, but her body feels like it's on fire. Olivia collapses onto the couch, the tears in her eyes threatening to overwhelm her. _She can't do this again with him. She can't subject her daughter to this… to worrying and missing him as much as she has. _But she can't leave him… she can't live the rest of her life without him.

Who was she kidding? They're not family, they're not married. They have a child out of wedlock, _by accident, _and she expects him to give up everything for her? _That's not the way life works, Olivia._

The sliding door opens slowly. Elliot slips through, approaches the couch and sits down slowly, his eyes locked onto her face.

"I'm done talking about it," she whispers. She can't deal with this right now. She can't think about what the next four years will bring- she's an instant away from going into the bedroom, packing up her bags and moving back next door. _If he really loved her and Ella, he wouldn't do this to them. _

"Well, I'm not," he answers gently. "You didn't even let me finish."

"What is there to finish, Elliot?" she snaps. "You love the job more than your daughter, that's all I needed to know."

"Olivia. You know that's not true. I love the job, but I love the two of you so much more," he says, and the gentle tone in his voice is making her want to slap him. "I'm just not willing to give it up yet- not completely, at least. So earlier today, I told my career planner that I want to stay in, but I can't be going away for months at a time. He gave me the perfect solution."

She doesn't want to care. She wants to tell him to get lost, to grab her bags and start packing but she already did that once and failed. There's no way she can live without him, but she can't live with this, either.

Finally, despite all her frustration, she gives in and asks, "What's that?"

"Do you know what a lateral move is?"

"No, how would I?"

Elliot starts to reach for her hand, but he must think better of it because he runs it over his knee instead and takes a deep breath. She doesn't blame him for stopping himself- she doesn't know what she'd do if he tried to touch her right now. "Well, it's basically the same as if you decide you want to transfer to another unit. You keep detective, you keep everything, but you're just doing something else. In the Marines, it's the same. At the end of an enlistment, if I decide to change my specialty, I can and I keep my rank. I did it years ago after my first enlistment."

"So what does that have to do with anything?" Olivia asks. Her heart's pounding in her chest and she doesn't know what to think anymore. _She can't get her hopes up. _

"Well, new guys are trying to join my specialty every day. They're gonna need someone to train 'em. Someone with a lot of experience, someone who knows the job inside and out." Finally, Elliot's desire to touch her wins out and he runs his hand runs gently over her back. Olivia doesn't move- she's waiting with bated breath for him to finish his explanation, forcing the hope that's flooding her chest down just in case he's going to break her heart all over again. She can't bear it anymore.

Smiling, his unreadable expression turns gentle and his eyes soften. Her heart jumps into her throat as she stares into his sparkling irises. "Someone who has a girlfriend and a new baby to take care of."

"Someone like you?" _Is he-? He can't be…_

"Yeah, Liv. Someone exactly like me."

"So?" she breathes. She's frozen where she sits, she can't breath as she stares into his eyes, begging him to just end her misery and tell her exactly what the hell is going on.

"So, at the end of this enlistment, I'm going up for a promotion to Master Sergeant. If everything goes right, after that, I'll go for training on base to become a training instructor." Elliot brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "And for the next four years, my duty station will be Camp Pendleton, USA."

"Home," Olivia whispers. "No more deployments?" She almost can't believe it. Does this mean… is he really…?

"No more deployments," he confirms. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here with my girls."

Just a moment ago, she wanted to strangle him for doing this to her. Now, she can't believe this is happening. He's staying with her, he's not going anywhere. The tears that had pooled in her eyes minutes ago multiply, but this time they're of relief instead of fear and anguish and she can't hold them back anymore. He's done. He's not deploying anymore- he's right here to stay. It's a dream- she's can't close her eyes because she's terrified that when she opens them, none of this would have happened.

_He's not going anywhere. _

Elliot leans in for a kiss, but before his lips make it to hers, her fist buries in his gut and he groans. She whispers, "Bastard. Don't you ever scare me like that again. I thought you were…"

"I'm sorry," he says, caressing her cheek gently. "For everything. I haven't been exactly easy on you during all this. I've been stubborn… and selfish. But I need you to know, starting now, I'm gonna do better for you and Ella. I promise."

"I know you will," Olivia murmurs. Staring at the genuineness in his eyes makes it impossible not to know. "I know I got mad, but I understand where you were coming from." And she really does. "I'm just happy you'll be here with us."

"I wouldn't choose anything else," Elliot murmurs. He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and a grin twitches across his face. "We're gonna be a family, Liv. You, me and Ella."

"That's all I want," she rasps as her fingertips drag down the skin of his cheek. It's true- the only thing she wants is a family for her daughter- to give her little girl the one thing that she never had. It's not even a desire, it's more than that.

Elliot nods once as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. His hand is clutching her waist when he asks, "So sell the house next door and stay with me. Move in, officially."

Olivia's heart instantly lightens as a smile spreads across her face. After the week they've had, it feels so good to just smile. It feels so, _so _good to not have to worry anymore. "So, you finally caught on, huh?" she teases.

"Finally," Elliot answers, her smile drawing out one of his own. "So, is that a yes or a no?"

Olivia's hand squeezes the back of his neck as she pulls her lips to hers. The kiss that they share is soft, and when she drops her mouth from his, a whisper emanates from her throat, "Yes."

He visibly relaxes and it makes her laugh. "I'm already moved in, El, what did you think I was gonna say, no?"

Elliot shrugs. "After what I've put you through, I wouldn't be surprised if you did." His hand runs gently down her back and he leans in again to peck her on the lips. "Now, c'mon. I think I still owe you something. Especially after you've been so patient with me."

He grabs her hand and guides her down the hall towards the bedroom. Before they make it to the bed, he turns her towards him, pulls her waist to his and pressed his mouth to hers. Slowly, his hands slip under her shirt and runs lightly along her bare skin. His hands drag up her body, bringing her shirt with them. Elliot pulls it over her head, lays her down on the bed and whispers, "Roll over."

Olivia shivers and does as he asks. His thighs straddle hers and his warm hands dig into her shoulders. A moan falls from Olivia's lips as his fingers move down to her upper back. "Feel good?"

"Mmm," she answers, eyes closing. "So glad you were wrong about Ella."

She hears him chuckle lightly as his hand travels downward. His fingers squeeze her bottom playfully as he whispers, "Me, too. Dunno if you'd let me touch you like this otherwise."

He works her upper back, then her lower, and lifts her waist gently to pull down the pair of yoga pants she wears. His fingers work magic on her thighs, calves and sore feet, and once he's finished with that, she feels his body slide over hers and his lips descend on the back of her shoulder and neck. "Roll over," he whispers huskily into her ear. As soon as she does, his knee presses between both of her legs and he kisses her languidly. His tongue runs along her top lip, his teeth scrape against her bottom and Olivia is aching to feel him between her legs. God, she wants him… and not just his hands.

His hands slide up her sides slowly, squeeze her bare breasts and his thumbs swipe over both nipples. "I wish I could make love to you," he says, dropping his forehead against hers as their lips part. To punctuate the statement, the bulge in his shorts presses firmly against the top of her thigh. Olivia moans into her lips, but before she can answer, his face is gone and he's back to rubbing her still-swollen belly. His hands travel down the fronts of her thighs and shins, paying special attention to each and every muscle, working out kinks that Olivia didn't even know she had. Once he's finished, his body slinks back up hers and he presses a final kiss to her parted lips.

"Thank you," she whispers sleepily as Elliot pulls off his t-shirt and settles down next to her. He pulls her body close, shivering as her breasts press against his bare skin.

"My pleasure," he answers softly just as her heavy eyelids close. Her muscles are relaxed and his presence next to her, his hand as it smooths up and down her back, is quickly putting her to sleep. "Night, Liv."

It's the last thing she hears before drifting off.

—-

Much later, Olivia stands in the open doorway leading to the backyard. It's dark, but the air is warm. She wears one of Elliot's button-ups, the khaki one that belongs with his service uniform. It still smells like his cologne.

She's happier than she's ever been. She has her man- he's hers. No more deployments. No more sleepless nights. No more worrying about him. He lays in the bed they share, dead to the world, blanket draped loosely around his waist, exactly where she left him.

Olivia sips at the cup of coffee in her hands, the warm liquid soothing as it runs down her throat. She'll never forget this night for as long as she lives... the night he finally returned to her. The night he told her all he wants is to be a family with her and their baby.

She feels Elliot approach rather than sees him. His arms wrap around her and his hands splay out across her stomach under her shirt. They don't say anything; she simply rests against his broad chest and he places his chin in the crook of her neck. The crickets continue to chirp.

Moments later, she finds herself rocking ever so lightly along with him, the sounds of the night acting as their rhythm. _This, _she thinks, _is what I really missed. _The time time they spend together is amazing, and what she really can't live without is their connection. The way he puts her at ease without even trying, they way just being in his presence fills her heart with a warmth that she still doesn't quite understand. She's not sure she ever will, but really, she doesn't care, as long as it never goes away.

They stand, bodies melded for several long, silent minutes before finally, he speaks, a simple murmur in her ear. "You're overdressed."

"Fix it, then" she answers. He reaches for her coffee cup, sets it down behind him somewhere, and his hands start to work at the buttons. It's painfully slow, but she lets him work; they really do have all the time in the world now.

Finally, the shirt falls from her shoulders. He reaches for her nipple, tweaks it between his fingers, and his lips drag across her shoulder.

"Jesus," she breathes, grinding back against him. They can't make love- not for several more weeks, but that doesn't seem to stop him as his hands work over her breasts and between her thighs, careful to avoid the places she needs him the most. He's teasing the hell out of her and seemingly enjoying it, and she hates it and loves it all at the same time. She doesn't think she'd be able to go a single day without feeling his hands on hers in one way or another.

Before Olivia knows it, he's sweeping her up and walking her back into the bedroom.

She's never wanted to make love to him more. The emotion rolls off of him in waves as he pulls back the blankets on the bed and sets her down before dropping next to her. Every moment they've shared- every kiss, touch, glimpse, soft sigh of pleasure, deep moan of lust, every mile between them when he'd been deployed to Iraq and she'd run off to New York blurs together as their lips meet. She wonders what he's thinking, what's on his mind to cause him to kiss her with such intensity and passion that it's as if the world is crumbling around them and all they have left is this moment. Maybe it's the same thing that she's thinking- he's hers, he'll always be hers and nothing will tear him from her and their daughter again.

"El," she whispers hoarsely, their intense kiss and the overwhelming warmth that has risen in her chest making speech almost impossible. She can't believe how quickly the silent comfort that permeated the pair just a moment ago has shifted.

Elliot shakes his head as he pecks her lips. "I just..." He looks like he's searching for words for a moment, like he doesn't quite know how to describe what he's feeling. That's her comfort; the feeling in her chest is the exact same as the feeling in his. Finally, he swallows and whispers, "I love you." It's the closest thing they'll ever get to their true feelings.

Before Olivia can answer him, a soft cry echoes through the bedroom. Elliot smiles and rolls off her. "I'll get her."

Moments later, he returns with their little bundle in his arms. Wordlessly, Olivia sits up and takes her. Ella clamps onto her breast as Elliot slides in behind her, supporting her with his chest and setting his chin against her shoulder, watching Ella intently. His fingers rub her belly gently, relaxing her so deeply that if their daughter wasn't happily suckling on her, she'd probably fall asleep against his chest.

Once Ella's finished, Olivia goes to get up and put her back into her crib, but he stops her with his arm around her waist. "Let her stay tonight," he says.

Looking down at their baby, Olivia doesn't have the heart to say no. Elliot must know this, because he smiles, releases her and leans over to turn off the lamp by the bed. Olivia holds Ella to her chest, Elliot holds them both to his, and Olivia is snuggled up to the two people she loves the most in the world.

Ella falls back to sleep first, Elliot soon after, but she lays awake, staring at their sleeping faces.

It hits her just as she's about to close her eyes- everything that she's felt for him over the past year and a half that they've known each other. The very first time she saw him walking up the driveway in his uniform, strong and tall and handsome as all hell, the moment he grabbed a man that had tried to attack her and protected her with his life, without falter, the way she knows he'll protect both her and their daughter from this point forward, and even the yelling match they'd had over Shane in his driveway has all led up to this moment, laying in bed with the baby that they created tucked gently in their arms. He's her ending, the one person that tore her away from the almost empty state of existence she'd been in the moment her feet hit the California dirt for the very first time. He's her beginning, the one person that made her truly start to live, the one that she's started a beautiful family with and the one that she will never be able to be without.

They'll both still have nightmares. They'll both still have their demons to fight and to overcome, but there's one thing that she's absolutely sure of: he's revived her. And she knows that she's done the same for him.

**THE END**

* * *

A/N: So... this is the part where I get emotional. Thank you so much for everyone who has stuck with me for this long ride- whether you've been here for a week or a year, every single comment and word of encouragement has truly been taken to heart. They've kept me going when I wanted to quit and made me smile when life has just sucked in every other regard. The reason that I am able to write 'End' above is because of you guys. You deserve a happy ending.

And of course, special thanks to Mari, Jackie and Darla. You guys have been absolutely amazing and I'm lucky to have you reading and even more importantly, to have your friendship. Thank you. So much.

And don't worry- even though the story's status has been changed to complete and it says 'end' above, I am most certainly not done with Elliot, Olivia and Ella.

-Lindsey


	41. Epilogue

A/N: I told you I wasn't done with Elliot, Olivia and Ella.

* * *

The sun has set and stars gleam in the sky over the small home in Newport Beach. Olivia sits on the back patio, book resting on her lap, but the words on the page are long since forgotten. Instead, she stares out at the sky, watching the flecks of light burn bright. Birds' chirping is just starting to fade and a soft, warm breeze rustles the pages of her open book.

It's been a long week. Her eyelids have been heavy and she's been staving off exhaustion since Tuesday, when an eight year old girl with bouncing brunette curls and big brown eyes went missing. Thankfully, she and Raul had found her, alive and mostly well, three hours ago. Now, Olivia is left with the promise of two full days off with her family and that thought makes her heart warmer than the sun that dipped below the horizon just a few minutes ago.

When Olivia walks into the kitchen and sets her book down on the counter, Elliot is closing the front door behind him, dressed in a pair of fatigues, rumpled after a long day. She can't help but think about how they now mean something completely different than they have in the past. He's not going off to war. He'll never have to go off to war again. As a master sergeant, he's in charge of training the men that will replace him. It hadn't been an easy path; after nearly a year of recovery from the injuries of his last deployment, personal leave to take care of their baby girl, and waiting lists, he finally got his orders to report to Camp Lejeune, South Carolina for twelve weeks of training for his new career.

The first time she heard where he was going and for how long, she nearly cried. For three months, he'd be away from her and their daughter. For three months, it would be almost as if he was deployed again. But he had quickly soothed her. He reminded her that he would never be in the danger of a combat zone again and three months away from each other would be a small price to pay for the time they'd get to spend together afterwards.

The night before he had to leave, though, she was the one that had to comfort him.

/

When Olivia woke up, the mattress next to her was empty. Rubbing her bleary eyes, she sat up, looking for the telltale signs of the man that she shared her home with. Finding no signs of movement, she slipped on a t-shirt and shorts and padded softly into the hallway.

The door to Ella's bedroom was fully ajar and Elliot sat in the chair in the corner, holding their baby to his chest, rocking her back and forth slowly. Moonlight made the moisture in his eyes glisten.

She sat down next to him and ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling his tense muscles, sensing his dread. He held their baby tight in his grip, stared at her like he was trying to memorize each dip and dimple of her skin. She knew that intense gaze. It was the very same one she'd been waking up to for the past three nights. The same one he'd studied her with so long ago, before he had to leave her for what was almost an eternity.

"I don't want to go," he whispered.

"I don't want you to, either," she answered, setting her chin down on his shoulder. This time, there wouldn't be a threat of forever between their next meeting. Eighty-four days, and he would be in her arms again. "But it's only twelve weeks. You'll be back before you know it."

"What if I miss something?" Elliot asked. He still hadn't even looked at her- his entire focus had been on their baby as she slept in his arms, so innocent and oblivious to her father's pain. "What if she says her first word? What if she walks?"

"El, she's only eight months. I don't think you're going to miss any milestones."

She stared at him, his bottom lip jutted out, practically pouting and if it had been any other situation, she would have laughed at the look on his face. But it was their daughter, their life, and if their positions were reversed, she'd feel the exact same way. Just a few days away from him and Ella on a hard case knocked the breath out of her.

"You need some rest," she whispered, squeezing his shoulder gently. They had to be up in four hours and she knew that he wouldn't be getting nearly enough sleep over the course of his time away from her.

He nodded and stood, moving to place their sleeping daughter back down into her crib.

/

"I made some dinner," Olivia tells him gently. There are bags under his eyes and his shoulders are slumped. It's the last week of a cycle of training on the base- the hardest week, not just for the men he's been training, but for him, as well. He's had just as long a five days as she has. "Go clean up, I'll heat some up for you."

Elliot nods and leans forward to kiss her. "Thank you," he murmurs, then disappears down the hallway.

Olivia buzzes around the kitchen quietly, pulling out leftovers from the fridge and popping them into the microwave, mindful of the almost-two year old that currently sleeps just down the hall. Fifteen minutes later, just as the shower turns off, the dreaded sound filters through the kitchen. Olivia sighs, setting her dish towel down onto the counter to go tend to the crying girl, but just as quickly as the crying started, it stops.

She walks down the hall to Ella's bedroom, where Elliot paces around the room, holding her against his chest as he rocks her gently. One of her tiny fists clings to his white tank top while the other rests on his shoulder.

"I love you, Ella Grace," he says softly. "Go to sleep, baby."

"Dada," Ella says happily, easily disregarding her father's request as her head falls against his shoulder. "Lo' you."

/

Olivia stood outside of the security gate, Ella in her arms, her stroller sitting empty in front of them. She craned her neck over the crowd, searching the steady stream of people that walked through the doors into baggage claim. Her watch said 3:57PM… his plane landed exactly seventeen minutes ago. She'd been standing, rooted in the same spot for a half an hour, waiting for him. Ella had been napping quietly for most of that time, but a few minute after his flight landed, she began fussing, almost like she knew her father would be with them again soon.

The stream of people leaving the terminal suddenly grew more dense and she knew that he'd be appearing soon. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, rocking Ella gently in her arms. "Daddy's coming, Ella."

And she'd babbled happily in her own baby language. She'd been making those sounds more and more frequently since Elliot left, like she was ready to start talking but didn't know any words to say yet. Olivia tried her best to encourage her- called herself 'Mama,' pointed to pictures of 'Dada' and said Brutus's name every time the dog laid next to Ella on her blanket as she played. It had to have been only a matter of time.

Finally, Elliot's familiar frame slid through the frosted glass doors. His cap was in one hand and his bag was slung over his shoulder. He'd come straight from graduation- hadn't even changed out of his green and khaki service uniform. Their eyes met, he closed the distance between them and dropped his bag onto the floor to take the two of them into his arms.

"Hey," he whispered in her ear, like it was the first time he'd taken a breath since the last time she saw him. Olivia let her eyes close. That one embrace made her muscles weak with relief and she'd almost had to hand the baby over to him because she didn't think her arms could handle her for a moment longer. God, had she missed him. Every night, her body had pined for his to be laying next to her. Every time Ella blew a kiss at her, picked up a toy or made a sound close to a word, she wished he was there to witness it with her. Whenever she got home after a long, hard case, she wished she could collapse into his big, strong arms and let him take the pain away.

"Welcome home," she whispered. Her lips pressed against his jaw, the closest sliver of skin that she could reach. They broke apart slowly, Eliot's eyes focusing on Ella as his smile grew wider.

"Look, Ella, it's Daddy," Olivia said. "Daddy."

"Da!"

Both Elliot and Olivia froze. They looked down at their baby in amazement, and Olivia had been so proud that tears had formed in her eyes. A smile broke across Elliot's face and his chest puffed out as he stared down at Ella, making Olivia laugh through her tears. "Yeah, baby. I'm Daddy."

"Dada!"

Elliot kissed her forehead, then turned to Olivia, pressing his lips gently to hers. "It looks like I got home just in time."

"You did," she whispered, taking his hand in her free one. And just that fact, the fact that Ella had seemingly waited for her daddy to come home to reach the milestone, was a miracle in itself. "C'mon, El, let's go home."

/

Elliot turns and the smile that reaches his tired eyes touches her. She takes a long moment just to look at the two of them- him in his tank top and shorts, her in her little nightgown with a mop of messy brown hair falling down her forehead. Two pairs of blue eyes stare at Olivia- one as deep and crystal blue as the cleanest pool of water, the other with a touch of hazel, a perfect mix of his blue and her brown.

Sometimes, she has to pinch herself, because the fact that these two beautiful people are hers is closer to a dream than any reality she's known.

"Mama," Ella says, reaching for Olivia with her chubby little fingers. Olivia approaches the pair and Elliot pulls her body against his chest. One of her arms wrap lightly around Elliot's middle as the other slides around Ella's back.

Ella's head falls onto Elliot's shoulder and the thumb of her right hand finds its way between her little lips. Elliot begins to rock back and forth and before Olivia knows it, he's humming softly. She listens silently to the sounds of his soft crooning and Ella's breaths slowly beginning to even. Her thumb falls from her mouth, arm settles against Olivia's shoulder, and even after she's asleep, Elliot doesn't move. Instead, he holds them both close for a few more quiet minutes. She knows what he's thinking without a word- the same thing that she thinks. He's exactly like her, wondering how in the world someone like him ended up with two people that he loves so much.

Finally, he sets her down gently into her crib. Olivia takes his hand and guides him back out into the kitchen to the meal she's prepared. He sits down, eats, asks her quietly about her day. She tells him about closing the case, which he congratulates her for, and she tells him about the time she got to spend with Ella, making her laugh with silly faces and playing with the toys they both picked out for bath time before putting her to bed, which makes him smile. When he's finished, he sets the dishes into the sink, promising to wash them later and she doesn't protest because he's leading her into the living room and the promise of feeling his warm body against hers far outweighs a dirty plate.

"I've been thinking," he murmurs as their bodies meld together against the cushions of the couch. "When's the last time we had a weekend to ourselves?"

"Hmm," she answers, closing her eyes as she rests her head against his shoulder, "how old is Ella again?"

Elliot's chest rumbles softly with laughter as his fingers trail over the skin on her hip. Five days have passed since he's touched her without urgency- she's missed this far too much. "Well, I called Murph and Casey. They said they'd be happy to take her in the morning and keep her for the night."

Olivia pulls back and stares at him for a moment, a slow smile coming across her face. "You mean a full day and night, all to ourselves?"

"Yeah. Well, if you want, that is."

"Are you kidding?" Olivia falls against him with a sigh. "That sounds amazing."

"That's what I thought," Elliot says. He urges her to her feet. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

/

The sun is just beginning to set over the ocean. Olivia lays on her stomach on the beach blanket she and Elliot laid out hours ago, staring out at the sky, watching the wisps of clouds change from pure white to pink, then orange and eventually darker. Her hair is still damp from when Elliot pulled her out into the ocean for the last time nearly an hour ago.

Earlier that morning, after dropping Ella off with Murph and Casey, Elliot had managed to convince her that they should come out and have a beach day. Olivia would have been completely fine with laying in bed all day and night without a shred of clothing to separate them, but he convinced her to come out. He said it had been a long, hot and miserable week out on the beaches of Coronado with the men and spending some leisure time on the ocean would be just the thing for both of them to wind down. And, of course, she agreed. Laying out on a beach towel half-naked with him, splashing around the ocean with him, didn't sound so bad, after all. And they'd have plenty of time to lay naked in bed together later.

"How's Ella?" she asks as Elliot sits down next to her with a soft sigh.

"She's having the time of her life with her Uncle Murph and Aunt Casey," he answers, stretching out on his side next to her. His hand slips under the light button-up she wears over her bathing suit top and his fingers run gently along her bare skin. A shiver passes over her frame.

"Good," she murmurs, turning towards him. Her eyes sweep over his bare chest, the strong muscles that relax on the blanket under him. The left side of his body is bathed in orange light as the sun slowly begins to set.

A long moment of comfortable silence passes before he finally speaks, his voice soft. "I never thought I'd be sitting here like this."

Her eyes drag up to his face. "What do you mean?"

Elliot shrugs, the beginning of a thoughtful smile forming. "With someone I love," he murmurs. He pauses, eyes sweeping over her face. "It took two or three enlistments for me to finally realize… someone like me, I don't get into relationships. No woman wants to get into it with a man that's more dedicated to his job than he is to her. So… I never had anyone to come home to."

"El," she says softly, reaching to touch him with her fingertips. His muscles are tense under his skin and her heart skips a beat. She doesn't know where this sudden emotion has come from, but she senses it in each of his words and it's making her heartbeat quicken. "I love you. Is everything okay?"

Elliot scoots so close to her that their legs interlace. The box in his pocket digs into his thigh- the box he went to get in the car while excusing himself to go to the restroom and call Murphy minutes earlier. His heart is pounding in his throat- he feels like he's standing at the edge of the open door in an airplane, ready to jump out.

"Yeah," he says. "I have something for you."

He fumbles with the box in his pocket for a moment, his shaking hand making it nearly impossible to fish the damn thing out. Finally, he holds it out to her.

"What is that?" she whispers.

"I know we kind of did this backwards," Elliot says, thoughts going to the little girl with her hair and his eyes. He drops his forehead against hers and flips the box open. He's been looking at rings for weeks, trying to find the perfect band to slide onto her finger, and finally, two days ago when he told Olivia he was working late, he found it- a thin silver band encrusted with small jewels and a diamond that he really couldn't afford, but had to get anyways because there is no woman on Earth that deserves it more. "But… marry me?"

Sparkling tears fill her eyes and steadily stream down his cheeks. Elliot wipes them away, feeling moisture prickle at his own eyes.

Night is coming. The sky is filled with yellow and orange, sending a bronze glow over his skin. It instantly reminds her of their first date, eating dinner on the boat as the sun set. So much has changed since then. It's strange, that moment feels like a lifetime ago, but time has seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, as well. A few years ago, she would have never imagined being strong enough to deal with everything that's happened. Learning to love him, being without him, and coming so dangerously close to losing him. He's changed her, helped her become stronger, taught her more than she could ever imagine.

"Liv?" he whispers. He's covering her hands with his now, biting his lip, and he's looking quite unsure of himself. "Marry me?"

She nods, finding it hard to catch her breath. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats, his tears beginning to stream down his face.

She nods. Elliot takes the ring from her, and slips it onto her finger. Their lips meet just as the sun falls below the water.

* * *

A/N: This took me so damn long to write because there are so many moments I wanted to capture before I ended this story for good. And, unsurprisingly, only about a quarter of what I wanted to throw in there actually made it, lol. So I want to do something else. I'm thinking about starting a series about these three and their future together. A collection of family one-shots, if you will, from a wedding, to Ella growing up and other surprises. Review and let me know if you guy will be interested! Oh, and definitely leave your thoughts on this :)

Thanks, and have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

Stabson


	42. Read

A/N: Hey, all! Sorry, I've got no new content for you... well, here, at least. Since I posted the epilogue, I've been editing the story and making a lot of changes, adding scenes, etc. And since forty-one chapters is a lot to go through and switch out here on FF, I've decided to make a PDF of the full story and send it out to anyone who wants it.

If you're interested, shoot me a PM here or on twitter with your email (if you're sending it here, spell out the and the . so FF won't block the address) and I'll be sure to send it off to you. My handle on twitter is Stabson10.

Thanks, and as always, have a great morning/afternoon/evening!

-Stabson


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